


Rubik's Road

by Kedreeva



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allisaac, F/M, M/M, Multi, Road Trip, Scallison, Scisaac - Freeform, Threesome - F/M/M, a bite off center, scallisaac
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-29 01:20:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 45,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kedreeva/pseuds/Kedreeva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The summer after their senior year, while Scott, Allison, and Isaac are figuring things out with one another still, the trio decide to just get out for a while. They take off together in an old RV for a couple weeks, hoping to clear their heads and get away from werewolf central. They decide to head down to Historic Route 66, and they end up learning quite a lot more about themselves along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was done for [A Bite Off Center's Rare Pairs Trope Fest](http://abiteoffcenter.livejournal.com). This was my first time participating in a fest of any sort, so I got a little excited and carried away... and missed the 15k limit by 30k. Oh well, I had fun.

** Rubik’s Road **

**Part One**

 

* * *

_You got a fast car_

_Is it fast enough so we can fly away?_

_We've got to make a decision_

_Leave tonight or live and die this way_

* * *

 

 

            Scott tossed the ball into the air again and the _click_ of the Nerf gun echoed a moment before a soft, sucker-ended dart landed on the bed beside him, missing the ball completely. He listened to Stiles reload as he pressed his fingers into the soft ball and waited. Around him lay scattered a dozen other darts; they'd all missed as well. Stiles was getting to be a better shot, but small moving objects were still a challenge. Scott tossed the ball again, and the next dart landed on his belly.

            He sighed, resting the ball against one hip. "I just wish I knew what to say."

            A familiar gurgle of irritation burst from Stiles. "It's not like there's a handbook for this kind of stuff, Scott. Maybe you just need to actually talk to them instead of hiding out here?"

            "Are you kicking me out?" Scott asked, propping himself up on his elbows to give Stiles a look.

            "I'm not kicking you out," Stiles told him, firing the Nerf gun at him instead. The dart hit squarely in the middle of his chest. "But you've been _moping_ in my room for the past week over Allison."

            "And Isaac," Scott reminded him, flopping back down. "It would be easier if it was just Allison."

            "No, I'm pretty sure I remember when it was _just Allison_ and it wasn't any easier," Stiles commented, reloading the gun. He paused with the last dart in his hand and looked back at Scott. "Have you thought about just making a choice?"

            "Like what?" Scott asked. He rolled the ball on his hip with the flat of his palm, staring up at the ceiling.

            "Like just pick one," Stiles told him. Something cold coiled in Scott's gut at the suggestion. "Then you don't have to worry about it. They don't have to worry about it. All of you can just... move on."

            Scott tried to push away the uneasy feeling to examine what Stiles was saying, but all he could feel was a sticky, sucking _wrongness_ to the idea. Choose? It would be like choosing between his brain and his heart; he felt like it was death down either path. It wasn't a _choice_. He couldn't just set someone aside like that, couldn't compartmentalize anyone that way, especially not Allison or Isaac.

            "It's not about choosing," he finally said aloud. "Even if I could just _choose_." The word left a bad taste in his mouth.

            "Then what is it about?" Stiles asked tiredly. He pumped the gun and Scott tossed the ball almost on reflex.

            "I don't know," he admitted, catching the uninjured ball. Another toss, another miss, and a long suffering sigh from Stiles. "I don't _know_ , Stiles."

            "Oh my god," Stiles groaned, exasperated. Setting the gun on his thigh, he leaned back in his computer chair and just stared at Scott for a minute. Scott resisted the urge to look back, knowing exactly which face he would get if he did. Finally Stiles scrubbed a hand through his hair and let out a breath. "Okay. So maybe you just need to take a step back from everything. Isn't that what Isaac taught us?"

           "I don't know how to take a step back," Scott admitted, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "There's always so much going on here."

            "So leave," Stiles said simply. At that, Scott opened his eyes and sat up a little.

            "I am leaving," he responded, giving Stiles a little head tilt that suggested Stiles should know better.

            Stiles rolled his head along with his eyes. "No, I mean, just you. Pack some stuff, camping shit or something, take your bike, and just get gone for a while. Get away from all the distractions here. Sort out whatever you need, and come back when you're done."

            Scott made a soft noise of frustration. "You know Doc won't give me any more time off, even if I somehow had the money."

            "Dude, you've got the money and the time." He raised both his eyebrows like Scott should definitely be getting this. "Our trip?"

            That was exactly what Scott had thought Stiles was implying, and he rolled his eyes right back at Stiles. "I'm not ditching our road trip for my problems," he informed Stiles.

            "It's totally not ditching!" Stiles exclaimed. At the look Scott turned to him, he shrugged. "Okay, it's a little ditching. But it doesn't count since I'm telling you do it, right? You already have the time off from Deaton, and you've already got the money saved. Just take it and get this sorted out because I swear to god, I love you, but if I have to stay in this room one more minute listening to you bitching about how you don't know what to do about Allison and Isaac, I might actually murder you."

            "Stiles-"

            "Ah!" Stiles interrupted, loudly, holding up one finger. "Unless you're planning on following that with 'what a great idea,' I don't want to hear it."

            "And what are you gonna do?" Scott asked, fixing him with an exasperated look. "You took time off, too. You've been looking forward to this all summer."

            Leaning his head back, Stiles searched around the room for an answer, any answer, and finally his eyes lit. "I'll just go hang out at Derek's for a couple weeks." His eyes brightened considerably at the idea. "In fact, if you _don't_ go, I'm going to go hang out at Derek's for a couple weeks anyway, and I'll call you every day with every juicy detail."

            Scott groaned and threw the Nerf ball at him. Stiles hit it with the side of the gun, laughing. "That's coercion," Scott griped. "Don't you feel at all bad about-"

            "Nope," Stiles said before he could finish. He tossed the ball back to Scott, who caught it without even looking. "So you'd better just go along with it."

            "I'll think about it," Scott conceded.

            He tossed the ball, and the dart smacked dead-center of it, knocking it away from his grasp. Stiles crowed victoriously.

 

* * *

 

            "I'm not even supposed to like him anymore," she said quietly, breaking the silence. Lydia looked up from across the room, and Allison shied away from the scrutiny of her best friend. "I know," she said before Lydia could even start. "It doesn't work that way. It should."

            "You're staying away because you think you should," Lydia supplied, inspecting one of her freshly filed nails. "Not because you think it's a good idea."

            "Ugh," Allison answered, flopping back on Lydia's bed. "I don't want to stay away from him, Lydia. He doesn't want to stay away from me. I can't get any distance."

            Lydia hummed thoughtfully and then turned back to her vanity. "Maybe you don't need distance," she suggested. Her head tipped to the side as she considered this. "Maybe you just need a _distraction_."

            A small huff of laughter escaped Allison. "I can't do _distraction_ like you, Lydia."

            Eyes rolling, Lydia turned back to face her. "I wasn't talking about _that_ kind of distraction." She paused, looking upwards in consideration. "Well, not _exactly_ that kind of distraction," she corrected.

            "What kind of distraction?" Allison asked, uncertain. When Lydia wore that face, nothing good was ever coming.

            "Look, honey, you haven't been in a lot of relationships. Just Scott and what's-his-face from two lifetimes ago and whatever that was with Isaac last year. Maybe it's time to get into another one so you can decide if it's a _relationship_ that you're missing or if it's _Scott_."

            "Lydia!" Allison accused, though for as much affront as she felt, something within her began to wonder which it was. "Even if that wasn't wrong on ten different levels, there isn't anyone else I like so-"

            "Bullshit," Lydia sing-songed at her. "What about Isaac? You told me you wanted to try again with him." She raised both eyebrows when Allison glared at her, but there was a soft blush coloring Allison's cheeks. "You are so busted," she said before Allison could protest.

            Allison scowled when Lydia began to laugh. "Whatever," she tossed out, rolling her eyes. "Isaac really only tolerates me now anyway. It doesn't matter how many times I apologize, he always gives me the same look."

            "Is it the 'oh Allison, how I want you' look? Because I've seen that one a few times on him. It's adorable really." She shrugged and turned back to the myriad beauty tools spread on the vanity before her.

            "That's not the- no," Allison told her, scrunching her nose. "Can we not talk about Isaac right now? Like my life needs one more complication."

            At that, Lydia paused, a little hum escaping. "Maybe you don't need a distraction," she said slowly, meeting her own eyes in the mirror. "Maybe you need to focus. Simplify things."

            Apprehension coiled up around Allison. Nothing Lydia said in that tone was ever a good idea for her sanity. "Simplify things?"

            "Yeah," Lydia said. "You're right; your life is pretty complicated here. It's practically impossible to figure out the simple things with all the noise. So maybe you just need to get out. Get away. Get some space from all the complications, focus on what you want. Take a trip."

            "Where would I even go?" Allison asked, then shook her head, waving a hand to dismiss it. "No, I can't just pick up and go someplace. I don't have the money and my dad would never let me go even if I did. You know how he is."

            Gleeful, Lydia turned to face her. "What if that wasn't an issue."

            "It is an issue," Allison said, nodding a little as though to encourage Lydia to see sense.

            But Lydia just waved her off. "I'm asking, what if it wasn't? What if you could just take off and not look back for a couple weeks?"

            Allison considered it, carefully. Packing up and leaving would mean she could just get away. She could leave her phone off and lay around not pressed to do anything. There was nothing going on that required a hunter, and even if there was, she'd come to terms with allowing her father in on what the werewolves were doing. Her father had no interest in hurting the Beacon Hills wolves as long as they were behaving. The whole world wouldn't come crashing down if she disappeared for a little.

            "I- I guess, if I could," she said at last.

            Lydia's smile was nothing short of predatory. "Excellent. Then you just figure out where you're going, and let me handle the rest."

 

* * *

 

            Absorbed in his novel, Isaac wasn't really paying attention to the murmuring going on from Derek's side of the loft. He's listened long enough to determine that it was Stiles on the other end and there was nothing Isaac needed to hear less than the two of them snapping at each other on the phone; unless it was them _not_ snapping at each other on the phone. This seemed to be one of the latter conversations, so he was doing his best to tune them out until it was finished.

            Isaac was so focused on ignoring him, that when Derek finally did wander over to take a seat on the arm of the couch, Isaac almost didn't hear him. "Isaac."

            Withdrawing from the book world he'd submersed himself in to escape, Isaac pulled his attention up to Derek. "Yeah?"

            "You've been camping on my couch for... two weeks?" Derek observed in the sort of tone that said maybe he should stop.

            "I know, and I really appreciate you letting me stay," Isaac said quickly, sitting up.          "Things have just been really... you know, _off_ , with Scott lately."

            "You can't hide here forever," Derek told him, crossing his arms. Isaac didn't get the impression he was demanding anything. In a way, he was trying to help.

            "Just a little longer, I swear," Isaac assured him.

            "Have you considered trying to fix this instead of avoiding it?" Derek asked. Of course he would suggest trying to fix it. Derek was always trying to fix things. Isaac had seen it go sideways for him too many times to take the advice seriously. "So that maybe you can go home?"

            Isaac swallowed thickly. "Are you- are you kicking me out?" he asked, hating the little tremble in his voice. Of course he would go this time if Derek asked him, since Isaac hadn't been actually living here for a while now, but it still stung. Even if Derek wasn't his alpha anymore, he'd thought Derek was over the whole pushing-people-away thing. "Did I do something?"

            Derek's body joined his eye roll in a way that screamed _oh my god_ in ways words never could. "No, I'm not kicking you out. Stiles called and said Scott's going on a road trip alone."

            Taking a moment to parse that, Isaac's eyes widened. "I can't just-"

            "So Stiles is coming over here to stay while he's gone," Derek continued before Isaac could come up with a reason he 'couldn't just' whatever excuse he'd been planning to use. "Why don't you call Melissa and see if she minds you going back while Scott is gone, at least?"

            There weren't really words for how uncomfortable that made him, but it was not as uncomfortable as the thought of staying here for any length of time while Stiles was over. Isaac knew what that meant, and he knew anywhere was better. "I guess," he agreed quietly. "It'll be weird with just me and his mom."

            "Then fix it with him before he goes," Derek told him. "Or ask if Scott wants company on his trip. You've still got your brother's RV parked in the garage, don't you?"

            "Yeah," Isaac sighed. It came out sounding more hopeless than he'd planned. There was no way Scott wanted him out on a road trip with him if he'd ditched Stiles. It was all the two of them had been talking about a month ago.

            Derek made the suffering noise, the one he reserved for moments when he regretted his life decisions to turn teenagers into the bulk of his social network. "What's that supposed to mean?"

            "Nothing," Isaac told him, even though he could hear the uptick in his own heart.

            "You're lying," Derek pointed out.

            Isaac did his best impression of a Hale eye roll and threw his book at Derek. It didn't make him any happier that Derek caught it. "I really hate you sometimes."

            Derek's phone landed on Isaac's lap. "Call him."

 

* * *

 

            When the door to the vet clinic chimed, Scott poked his head out to ask the new arrival to hold on just a moment. Lydia smiled at him from the entrance, her little papillon tucked beneath one arm, hot pink leash in her other hand, and Scott froze. He hadn't remembered seeing Lydia's name on the roster for the day; he would have remembered since Lydia normally took Prada to a vet out of town.

            "Is something wrong?" Scott asked, keeping his voice low as he shut the back door behind him so Deaton couldn't hear them. "Did something happen?"

            Lydia gave a shrug with one shoulder and shifted Prada in her arms. "She nicked her toe on something. I called to see if Dr. Deaton could have a look at her."

            "She called to see if you were here," Deaton called from the back room. They were obviously less subtle or quiet than Scott had thought.

            "Lydia?" he questioned.

            She rolled her eyes at being caught, and set Prada down on the counter. "It's nothing, really. I just heard that you were maybe going on a road trip by yourself, that's all."

            "Dude!" Scott breathed, incredulous. "Can Stiles not keep his mouth shut for a whole day?"

            "To be fair, I called him," Lydia reasoned, stroking a hand down her dog's back. She was holding up her back paw a little, and Scott almost instinctively reached out to take that pain. Lydia watched as he scratched Prada's ears, veins darkening just a little; the injury really didn't merit a vet visit. "And I think it's a great idea."

            "You do?" Scott found he really didn't trust the declaration, despite that Lydia's heartbeat never wavered.

            "Sure," she said, picking at Prada's leash. "But are you sure you want to go alone?"

            Sighing, Scott let his hand fall away from the dog. "Stiles didn't really want to go. Actually he threatened me with graphic sex stories about Derek if I didn't agree to go without him. So yeah, I'm sure."

            Lydia made a little face that wavered between vaguely disturbed and mildly interested before shaking away the idea entirely. "That's not really what I meant," she told him. She waited until he looked up at her before continuing. "You and Allison? You two need to sort yourselves out. Maybe you should take her with you."

            Snorting, Scott shook his head. "If you haven't noticed, she doesn't really want to be around me lately."

            "Dear," Lydia said, though it sounded a lot like _idiot_ rolling off her tongue like that. "You are literally all she talks about.... you know, except sometimes Isaac." He could hear her heartbeat speed a little when his attention snapped to her; it wasn't because she'd lied, it was because she was excited to be correct.

            "What do you mean?" Scott asked, confused. "Does she- I thought they hated each other after last spring?"

            The little, carefree shrug she gave only served to further pique his confusion.       "Apparently less than you thought. If you don't take her, who can say what the two of them will get up to while you're gone?"

            The door behind Scott clicked and creaked open, and Deaton looked out at them. Scott didn't need to turn around to know that he was disapproving of them chattering about their personal lives while he worked on the golden retriever patient alone. "Is everything okay, Scott?"

            "Yeah," Scott murmured. He caught Lydia's eyes and she tipped her head, lips pursing in sympathy for his situation. "Yeah, it's fine, Doc."

            "Great. You want to come take Lucy back to one of the kennels?" he suggested.

            "Sure, of course," Scott told him. He gave Lydia one last glance and then disappeared into the back. As he picked up Lucy's leash and clipped it onto her collar, he found himself thinking that maybe he wouldn't have to choose after all. Maybe the choice was going to be made for him, and maybe they'd be better off for it.

 

* * *

 

            When Scott nudged open the door to his bedroom, he knew that he would find Isaac perched on the edge of the bed. Almost as soon as he'd opened the front door, his mother had quietly told him Isaac returned, jabbed him in the arm with one finger, and told him that whatever had happened they had better work it out. Scott didn't need to be a werewolf to hear how worried she had been about Isaac since he'd taken off over two weeks ago. He'd agreed that they would figure it out, but nervous butterflies whirled in his stomach as his eyes met Isaac's.

            "Hey," he said softly, clicking the door shut behind him. "I didn't expect... I mean, you know, welcome back. I wasn't sure you were..."

            "No, I-" Isaac fumbled where he'd left off, both of them trying desperately to make this any less awkward. "I figured you'd want space, and I didn't-" Guilt flushed under Isaac's skin. "Derek thought I should come home."

            Anger flashed hot and thick through Scott, but he pushed it aside because there was no way he could be angry with Derek when it was his fault Isaac had fled in the first place. "I'm sorry," he said instead. "I shouldn't have put you in that position."

            Surprise colored Isaac's expression. "It's not- It's okay. Derek's... kind of right. I should have come back sooner. I was sort of avoiding you since..."

            Scott swallowed.

            Since they'd kissed, and Isaac had fled.

            "Oh," Scott said softly. Awkward silence flooded in after the breathy statement.

            Isaac groaned and practically leaped up from where he sat on Scott's bed. "I shouldn't have come back," he said quickly. "I knew I shouldn't have come back, I'm sorry." Scott could _smell_ how uncomfortable he was, and he blocked Isaac's pathway to the door.

            "I'm not."

            "What?" Isaac asked, backing up a step to give Scott room. He glanced to the window and Scott made a little, demanding noise. If Isaac was going to leave it was _not_ going to be through the _window_.

            "I'm not sorry you're back," Scott clarified. "Sit down."

            He watched as Isaac backed up, eyes wide, until his calves hit the side of the bed and he plopped down. Scott could hear his heartbeat thrumming and he tried his best to seem non-threatening. He scooted over, as close as he dared, and took a seat on the edge of the bed as well, leaving a space between them. He didn't know how to fix whatever was broken between them, but he had to start somewhere.

            "I'm going on a road trip in a week or so," he started hesitantly, not looking at the way Isaac was not looking at him. "For a couple weeks."

            "I know," Isaac mumbled, sounding miserable. "That's why Derek wanted me to come over. He told me to..." He gave a little shrug. "Fix this. Us. Before you left."

            Having expected as much, Scott sighed. He was going to kill Stiles later, he decided. "I don't have to leave alone, you know. You could come with me."

            Startled, Isaac looked over to him. "Is that a good idea?"

            "I don't know," Scott admitted honestly, glancing sidelong at him. "Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't." He took a deep breath and swept his gaze up to the ceiling, stomach flopping over as he tried to gather the courage to be completely honest. "I talked to Allison today. I asked if she wanted to go."

            He didn't miss the little flinch Isaac gave. So that was still a problem, whichever way Scott looked at it. "What did she say?"

            "She might." She would, he was pretty sure. Lydia would not take no for an answer when it came to this situation; Scott was sure Stiles wouldn't let him leave either of them behind once Lydia got to him. He'd prefer if Isaac said yes of his own accord.

            "Is _that_ a good idea?" Isaac asked.

            "I don't know." Scott's exasperation bled into the sighed words. "Maybe it is. Maybe we should all just go." He tilted his head to look over at Isaac again. "Maybe it's what we need."

            "Two weeks cooped up in a car with all of our problems ready to eat us alive?" Isaac asked, but it was light, a joke more than a jab. Scott barely twitched a smile.

            "Each other," Scott said slowly. "Without all the rest of this mess."

            Isaac let out a heavy breath and dropped his gaze to his hands, jaw clenching and unclenching as he thought. He shook his head, like this was all just a shade too ridiculous for him. "I'll go," he murmured. "I trust you."

            Reaching over, Scott laid his hand on the bed between them, palm up. For a moment Isaac just stared at it, and then he carefully slid his long fingers up Scott's palm until their hands rested together. He didn't thread their fingers, just lined up their fingertips and fell still. Scott smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

* * *

_All the roads we have to walk are winding_

_And all the lights that lead us there are blinding_

_There are many things that I would like to say to you_

_But I don't know how_

* * *

 

**Day 1**

 

            It wasn't the _most_ awkward thing she'd ever done, because that was a long list with a lot of items, but sitting on the end of Scott's bed and watching as he packed the last of his things to leave still ranked pretty high. He was talking about how they had a full two weeks for the trip, so maybe they could use it to take Route 66 like he and Stiles were going to do.

            She knew of this, of course. They’d already planned where they were going, had gone over it multiple times, but she could tell he was excited and nervous, talking to fill silence just as surely as he was keeping moving to fill space despite that half the things he'd grabbed in the past five minutes were not going to be useful.

            "Scott," she said finally, drawing his attention. When he froze and looked at her, she couldn't help the little chuckle that bubbled up. "Do you really need sheet music?"

            He looked down at the booklet in his hands and his skin flushed in a way that made her swallow whatever remark she'd been about to make. Yes, still attracted, she thought to herself, hoping the heat in her own cheeks didn't show.

            "I- no, I don't," he admitted, putting it back on the shelf. He followed her nod to his suitcase, packed with other odds and ends, and began putting them back in silence.

            Sighing, she leaned back on her hands and gave him a skeptical, worried look. "Do you really think this is a good idea?" she asked, hushed. He would have heard her if she'd been downstairs. "Just... just taking off like this?"

            He trailed to a stop, his hands resting on the edge of the suitcase. She sounded so much like Isaac. "I don't know," he responded. "It could be really good, or it could be really bad. It could change nothing. It could change everything. Maybe we'll never get back to where we are now." He looked over and gave a little shrug. "Maybe that's not a bad thing."

            She chewed the inside of her cheek in thought, long enough that Scott fidgeted and then walked over to her side. He took a seat next to her, holding out a hand, the back of his wrist on her thigh. She slid her hand into his and tried not to think about just how _right_ it felt. This was _right_ and she'd been avoiding it and stressing over how it shouldn't happen. Seeing his small, reassuring smile, she couldn't imagine ever losing whatever they had. She couldn't imagine wanting to leave it behind.

            "Allison," he said quietly, drawing her gaze up to his by tipping his head down a bit. "I don't know if this will work out. None of us know. I'm not even sure we know what the problem is, right now, but being here? Being around all the craziness that is the rest of our lives?"

            "It's not helping," she agreed before he could say it.

            "It's not," he confirmed. "So maybe all that happens is we get some space from all of that, and we go on a road trip." He gave her hand a squeeze, and she squeezed back without thinking. "But... I want to find out. I want to know what happens. I want to know what we can figure out together."

            It sounded so _reasonable_ when he said it like that. Everything always sounded more reasonable when Scott said it in soft, patient tones. She smiled, giving him a small nod. "Me too," she admitted, and it came out sounding more desperate than she'd planned.

            He returned the smile and then his attention shifted abruptly to the door, and she knew he was hearing something she couldn't. She slipped her hand from his the instant before Isaac nudged open the door and peeked around it, looking guilty and sheepish for interrupting. She knew her smile was a little tight, but he seemed to take it at face value and relaxed.

            "The RV's ready," he told them, nodding back as if it were sitting in the hall behind him.

            "Thanks," Scott said, motioning to his suitcase and the mess he'd made of the room. "I'll uh... I'll get cleaned up and bring this down. Why don't you two head down?"

            Allison stood up and crossed the room, picking up the backpack of stuff Scott had packed earlier. When Isaac held out his hand for it, she passed it over without comment. His fingers brushed warm against hers as the strap traded hands, but she managed not to snatch hers back. Instead she met his gaze, feeling _studied_ , and then forced herself to breathe evenly, to keep her heartbeat level. "Shall we?"

            "Yeah," Isaac agreed, sounding a little strained. They both looked to Scott, who was watching them with a curious expression. "See you down there."

            Following Isaac out, she padded down the stairs. They slipped their shoes on in silence, stealing furtive glances when they thought the other wasn't looking. Isaac opened the door, but he didn't wait for her, just disappeared through it and left it open. Giving one last glance toward the staircase, Allison darted out after him.

            The RV parked in the driveway awaiting them was older, the pale, ugly tan-with-brown-striping that most RVs from its time period seemed to be. The driving cab wasn't separated from the rest of the back, which was nice; it would make trading driving easier on them and, even better, it meant that the driver wouldn't have to be separated if they wanted to talk. She wondered what the laws were about wearing seat belts in the back.            She decided she didn't care, and moved past Isaac.

            "This must cost a fortune to gas," she guessed, opening the door.

            "Yeah," Isaac agreed. "There are newer models that get better gas mileage but... well, this one belonged to my grandparents. They gave it to my brother, before he left for the military. Sometimes, when he came home, we'd just take it out for a bit, just the two of us." He looked down and even from across the driveway she could practically feel the sadness radiating off of him.

            "You miss him," she concluded quietly. "And she was his." She patted the side of the RV with affection.

            Isaac looked up, like he hadn't really expected her to understand, and nodded slowly. She smiled. Maybe this could work after all.

 

* * *

 

            Getting away had been easier than they had expected.

            Allison had said goodbye to her father, accepting the care package he pressed into her hands as he kissed her forehead and reminded her to be _careful_ out there. He wasn't incredibly happy about her going off on her own with the two boys that had gotten her into so much trouble, but Lydia had very casually suggested all the worse, life-threatening things Allison could be doing that weren't going on a road trip for two weeks, and suddenly a road trip had seemed pretty harmless. Even a road trip with a pair of werewolves.

            It was slightly more of a hassle to get Scott away from his house, but it wasn't because of his mother. She had given him a hug, and given Isaac a hug, and given Allison a hug just to be safe, and told them that they were to check in nightly, pull over if they were tired, and not monster-truck over any small cars with the RV. She had been prepared to let Scott take off with Stiles on a much shadier road trip in the Jeep, and it seemed like she was just happy they were going to be less likely to get themselves stranded in lands unknown.

            As they were pulling out of the driveway, Stiles' Jeep roared to a stop in the street behind them and that was the real delay. He hauled over a huge Easter basket that had been crudely Saran wrapped until hardly anything could be seen inside of it, passing it off to Scott breathlessly. It was nearly tangible how much Stiles was going to miss his best friend; Allison and Isaac were both surprised Stiles didn't creep into the RV and go with them anyway.

            Even so, Stiles informed them that the basket had emergency supplies, should they find themselves in need. A flashlight, emergency food, a throw-away cell phone, and a packet of road games they could play amongst other things. None of them asked where Stiles had gotten road flares, they just thanked him and Scott steered him back to the Jeep. Stiles pulled him into a hug that was just a little too tight and mumbled good luck at him until Scott squirmed out of his grasp.

            After that, they'd just set out.

            Isaac was the first to drive and he put them on a southern route toward Barstow. Once they had all decided they were going and determined they could take the RV, Scott had suggested that they travel historic Route 66 like he and Stiles had been planning. No one had a better plan, so that decided them. Allison took some convincing on picking up the route in Barstow instead of at its actual start in Santa Monica, but in the end she'd agreed.

            There wasn't a plan beyond that, really. Isaac suggested that they visit the roadside attractions along the route, maybe stop at famous places. There were bound to be brochures they could pick up with lists of things to do. Allison loved the idea; she admitted that when her family was on the move, they'd stop at places like that along the way. Despite how stupid Scott thought roadside attractions would be, he was very pleased to see Allison and Isaac agree on something right off the bat, so he nodded along and let them make the plans.

           The plans that didn't involve where they were sleeping, that is. Earlier in the week, after they'd decided on their route, Scott had looked up all of the pit stop RV camping locations along the route, tucking a printed copy of all their addresses and phone numbers into his backpack so that they wouldn't have to guess about where they could stay at any time.

            All in all, things were looking fairly bright for the trio when they stopped for gas an hour outside of Barstow that evening. Allison offered to go inside and get fresh cold drinks and a bag of ice for the little cooler up front. The moment they rolled to a stop she was out the door and the boys exchanged a look.

            "She's freaking out a little," Scott surmised as he unbuckled and preceded Isaac out of the cab.

            "She's not going to take off, is she?" Isaac asked, a little concerned. They were only a few hours into the journey.

          "No," Scott assured him, wandering around the side of the RV. "How do we fill this thing? Do you have to use diesel? I literally know nothing about RVs."

            Laughter bubbled up from Isaac, but he showed Scott where the gas cap was and they settled in against the side of the vehicle while it filled. Isaac could see Scott tracking Allison's movement in the store. He focused his hearing on her heartbeat, listened to it rise and fall at whatever she was thinking.

            "We should turn on the radio," Isaac mumbled, watching the store now as well. "We still have a while 'til Barstow."

            "We can," Scott said, in the tone that said he wished they wouldn't. He let out his breath in a puff and looked down to the cement beneath them. "I sort of hoped we would talk more. All of us, since..."

            "Yeah," Isaac agreed. He hadn't felt like talking though. It was still awkward, still tense. Allison was hiding in the back for most of the ride and Scott, though he sat on the passenger side, had made only a couple of half-hearted attempts at conversation. It was ridiculous; it shouldn't be so difficult.

            Scott ran a hand through his hair as Allison reached the register. "Maybe we should stop for dinner instead of snacking," he suggested. "Figure out what we're doing for the night. There's a nice park just outside of Needles we could try."

            The door jingled across the station as Allison exited, and both boys straightened. Beside them the gas line clunked and ceased counting. Isaac gave Scott a look and then busied himself putting away the nozzle, partially so he didn't have to answer, partially so that he didn't have to face Allison. Not that it mattered; she passed him a bottle of water as soon as his hands were free.

            "They're out of ice," she informed them, clicking open the cap of her own water bottle. "And we should probably think about where we're going to stay for the night. It's a little early to stop in Barstow, but we'd get into Needles a little late."

            "We were just talking about that," Scott offered, though the narrow look she gave him as soon as he said it told him that she didn't approve of them discussing plans without her. "I mean, that we should figure it out."

            "Does it really matter?" Isaac asked, drawing both their attentions. He shrugged. "Isn't the point of a road trip to just... drive?"

            Allison shot him a hot glare, one that he returned with a bit too much sarcasm. "It doesn't hurt to have a plan, _Isaac_."

            "Pretty sure the plan is to not have a plan, _Allison_ ," he responded. "It's a vacation, not a schedule."

            She rolled her eyes, but Scott interrupted before they could get any further into it. "Look, guys, let's not fight this early, okay? We don't need a place to stay. We can always pull over in the RV and sleep in a parking lot if we have to. But it'd be nice to park someplace with running water and electricity, right?"

            They both grudgingly nodded, and Allison roughed a noise of surrender. "I've never been on an actual road trip," she admitted, quietly enough that humans might have had a hard time hearing. "When I traveled with my parents, everything was planned before we even left. I always figured it was, like, a control freak thing." She looked down, smeared her thumb through the condensation on her water bottle. "Now I know better."

            Both Scott and Isaac tipped their heads in question. When she caught sight of it, she forced a smile, giving her head a little shake.

            "They made a schedule so they could give it to another hunter," she told them, voice wobbling a little. "You know, so if they didn't show up someplace on time, someone knew. Someone could come looking for them. Looking for me, more likely since they... you know."

            They knew. Of course they knew; their lives for the better part of the past two years had been rife with worrying about when the next one of their friends would fail to check in, worrying about whether or not they would only show up in time to find a body. Scott felt almost sick with relief and gratitude that Allison's father had kept her in the dark for so long. He couldn't imagine growing up in a constant state of alert.

            Just as the silence was getting too awkward, Allison shrugged guiltily and forced a smile for them. "I guess I'll just have to trust your judgment."

            With that, she pulled open the door to the RV and disappeared inside, leaving Scott and Isaac to trade dubious looks before they followed.

 

* * *

 

            "C," Scott called, temple resting against the window as he watched the traffic stream ahead of and around them.

            "It has to be in the actual license plate letters," Isaac told him.

            Scott rolled his eyes.

 

* * *

 

            The park, when they reached it, was not particularly packed. There were enough RVs and tents leftover from the weekend that they still had neighbors, but enough open spaces that they didn't feel crowded on top of them as Isaac taught them how to hook the vehicle up to the electricity and water lines. Allison disappeared as soon as it was done, heading for the showers, only to return a few moments later with the news that the water was too cold.

            "We'll let everyone get to bed, or just get up early," Scott figured aloud.

            "Sounds good," Isaac agreed, dusting his hands on his jeans. "Fire?"

            "We did pick up s'mores ingredients," Allison told him, like it was completely obvious that they were going to be having a fire. Though Scott saw, it was thankfully too dark for Allison to catch Isaac's rolled eyes.

            "Oookay," Isaac drawled. "I guess I'll go pick up some firewood. I think they were selling it at the office building."

            "Need help?" Scott offered.

            Isaac didn't respond, just waggled his eyebrows a little as he walked backward toward the front, and then he was jogging off into the distance. They watched him go, the silence deteriorating into the awkward sort with every passing moment. Allison shifted, glancing sidelong at Scott, who smiled tentatively.

            "You wanna help me get the s'mores stuff?" It was a peace offering and they both knew it.

            "Sure." It sounded tired, even to her.

            It didn't take them long to fetch out all of the stuff they bought earlier in the day, though they were awkward and quiet and uncomfortable about it until Allison gave up and took a grocery bag full of hotdogs and buns and condiments out with her. Isaac was already back, building a pyramid of wood inside the little, rusty circle of metal that served as a fire pit. She wandered over, setting her bag down next to one of the chairs they had placed while getting the RV hooked up. Isaac spared her a glance and a tight smile before returning to his work.

            For a few minutes she just stood there, swatting at insects and waiting for Scott to return. Isaac didn't pay attention to her, focused on trying to get the chopped wood to stand up with only itself for support. She considered telling him how to do it, but he seemed so intent on it that she didn't want to open her mouth and spoil it. She could wait a little longer for the blessed smoke that would clear the insects from the area.

            "They don't bother you at all, do they?" she accused a few moments later, though with no malice. “Do they even bite or do you just not care?”

            Isaac glanced over in time to see her swat a mosquito from her arm, a drop of blood smearing along her skin, the copper tang of it flashing in the air. He looked up to meet her eyes. “They don’t bite me.” He shrugged and turned back to the fire pit, grabbing the matches and striking one. “Even if they did, it would heal. I’ve had the only bite that matters.” He shot her a quick, amused smile.

            She hummed a little noise of interest, swatting at another mosquito. “I wonder if you just taste bad.”

            Glancing over, he smirked. “You want to find out?”

            She made a face at him and he laughed, striking another match. This one lit the tinder, flaring to life briefly before winking out. A frustrated noise escaped him and he tossed the used match in for extra tinder. “Strike it closer,” she told him.

            “What?”

            “Strike it closer,” she told him, kneeling beside him. She pointed to the area where he should be lighting the fire. “Strike and put it here. It’ll catch.”

            For a moment he stared at her, but instead of arguing, he struck the match and put it where she instructed. The tinder caught, flickering hungrily over to the wads of newspaper and licking at the small sticks he had crammed in. There wasn’t much space for the fire to breathe, she thought, but the wood was really dry. It wouldn’t take much to have it crackling. When he looked over at her, she ducked her head and smiled a little.

            “My dad used to let me help,” she said. “We didn’t do much camping, but...”

            “My brother always made me stand back,” Isaac admitted, sitting back on his heels.

            The camper door opened, and Scott reappeared, holding aloft a small TV table and the rest of the s’mores ingredients. He tossed a small bottle of bug spray to her and Isaac caught it deftly, presenting it to her with a small, almost-shy smile. Allison rolled her eyes, guessing that Scott had been listening to them talk, waiting for a good moment to join, waiting for them to say anything nice to one another.

            It was going to be a long two weeks.

 

* * *

 

            It didn’t take long after dark had really set in for other campers to drift to their merry fire. They shared their s’mores ingredients with the first few comers, who offered up ingredients of their own, chocolate graham crackers and strawberry marshmallows, which Allison particularly enjoyed. There was another fire, across the park, that seemed bigger and louder than theirs, crowded with people who were drinking and playing music.

            It was nice, being as far from them as they were, the music muted somewhat by the distance, floating softly to them, wrapped around the sounds of happiness. Their smaller, quieter fire drew a couple of families, one of which had three little girls wielding long metal contraptions that Isaac recognized.

            “Pie irons!” he exclaimed to the first of the children, who shyly nodded.

            Soon after the group was inventing new dishes together, putting marshmallows between bread slices, baking grilled cheeses and pizzas with the supplies the family brought with them. Allison had the youngest sitting on her lap before an hour had passed, both of them looking sleepier and sleepier as time went by.

            They stayed up later than they planned, long after the families retired, the father of the girls clapping Scott on the back and telling him to take care. Isaac insisted on staying up to watch the fire burn to embers instead of breaking it apart and leaving it to its own devices. Scott scooped Allison from where she lay curled in one of the soft, folding chairs and brought her to the bedroom. She mumbled sleepily at him the entire way and he had to force himself to leave before he crawled into the bed and curled up around her.

            The night was colder when he returned to Isaac and the dying fire. They sat in companionable silence, watching the embers, thinking about the day. It was nice. Relaxing. Scott didn’t remember falling asleep outside, or the way Isaac roused him just enough to help him stumble inside to crash on the couch.

 

* * *

 

**Day 2**

 

            Despite the late night, it was only a couple of hours later that Scott woke. The RV was chill with dawn and his eyes were sticky with lack of sleep. Glancing around as he sat, he noted Allison still asleep in the back and Isaac sprawled along the bottom edge of the couch. It reminded him a little bit of Stiles, and he smiled. Stiles would have liked the trip so far.

            Not wanting to wake anyone to start the day too early, he just snatched a towel from the closet, thanking whoever was listening at such an ungodly hour that the linen cabinet door didn’t squeak. His bathing supplies were easy to grab from his open suitcase. The door to the RV was a little trickier, but he managed to open it without alerting either of the others; maybe because he was quiet, or maybe because they were both out cold. It didn’t really matter.

            The camp was dead, the utter stillness of it in the early dawn light nearly unnerving. He could still smell the coals from the fire through the pile of ash, could still smell the alcohol from the other fire and the different sort of wood they had used. The forest to the east was full of scents almost familiar; different trees, different wildlife than home. It was weird, and he set it aside as he headed for the showers.

            Inside, he could hear someone else, but it sounded as if they were finishing, so Scott let himself in. The room was not particularly large but it wasn’t cramped, with more than enough space for two people to change at a comfortable distance without knocking elbows. The scent of shampoo and soap permeated everything, masking the guy’s scent until Scott caught sight of him, recognizing him as the father from the night before.

            “Oh, hey,” the guy said, and Scott recognized that he was not getting away without a conversation. “Thanks again for the fire last night. The girls love bothering new people.”

            Scott smiled. “They weren’t a bother,” he assured him, laying his towel over the bar where the shower curtain hung and slipping off his shoes. He didn’t remember any of their names, but he remembered that they’d had fun. “Actually it was kind of nice.”

            “They had a lot of fun,” the guy said. Scott scraped at his sleep-hazed brain for a name but came up empty handed. “I’m sure they’ll be asking for whipped cream on everything now.”

            Scott made a face, remembering that one of them had used the spray whipped cream Isaac brought out on her grilled cheese. “I’m sorry.” He tried not to be too mortified remembering that the whipped cream was most likely intended for an entirely different use.

            Since the guy seemed in no hurry to go away, Scott settled in at one of the two sinks, inspecting his stubble in one of the grime-dotted mirrors. He slipped what he needed from his supplies and started in while the guy regarded him quietly.

            “Where are you guys headed?” he asked after a moment.

            Glancing over, Scott shrugged, tipping his head up to lather along his throat. “We’re just driving, mostly. Not really going anywhere.” He paused, meeting his own gaze in the mirror. Maybe he was tired; maybe he just needed to say it aloud. “We just... I think we just needed out for a bit, you know?”

            That pulled a chuckle from him. “You’re awfully young to be recognizing that,” he pointed out. “It’s good, though. You three looked like you were having fun, anyway. How long are you here for?”

            “Just overnight,” Scott informed him. “Once everyone’s awake, I expect we’ll head out again.”

            With a little nod, as if that settled everything, the guy shoved off of the wall and began picking up his stuff. Relief washed through Scott, because he really didn’t want to continue having conversations with strangers before either a shower or coffee. His mouth felt a little like cotton and his brain was still click-whirring at too slow of a pace.

            “Well, I hope the open road helps you find what you’re looking for, kiddo.” Scott nodded to him as he tossed his towel over his shoulder and turned to go. However, he paused at the edge of the exit, looking back. “Could I- Do you want some advice, about road trips? It seems like this is your first one.”

            “Um, I guess?” Scott really just wanted him to go, so whatever would get him through the door the fastest.

            “Do what you’re doing,” the guy told him. “Don’t try to get anywhere on time, and don’t fight about schedules. However long you kids have got for your trip, drive out for a little less than half of it, then turn around. Let everything else fall as it will. And, if I’m any judge at all, don’t the three of you go to bed angry. You got no-place else to go to get away while you’re on the road.”

            “We’ll keep that in mind,” Scott said, giving him a nod. He could hear footsteps approaching, and resigned himself to not getting any time to shower alone. “Thanks.”

            The guy gave a little wave and disappeared just as the door opened. Scott recognized the scent that flooded in a moment before Isaac’s voice filtered in, hollow and tinny in the tile room. Scott smiled and turned back to finish shaving. He wondered if Isaac had heard any of the conversation.

            “What was that about?” Isaac mumbled sleepily as he rounded the edge of the wall that divided the showers from the entryway.

            Scott shrugged, slicking a stripe of shaving cream away from his throat. He flicked it into the sink and ran the water over the razor. “I have no idea. One of the guys from the fire last night.”

            Isaac’s head tipped back a little as he thought about it, allowing Scott another few moments of uninterrupted shaving. Finally he shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

            “Too busy staring at Allison?” Scott asked, smirking.

            Scowling, Isaac leaned back against the cold wall, raising an eyebrow. “Would you rather I stare at you instead?”

            Scott froze, water halfway to his face to rinse the remnants of the cream off. Isaac could probably hear the click of his throat as he swallowed, pointedly not looking at the other wolf. “I wouldn’t mind,” he said quietly. The water was freezing as he splashed it over his cheeks.

            When he opened his eyes, Isaac had pushed silently away from the wall and slid over to his side, was standing just a little too close. Ducking his head a little, Isaac caught Scott’s gaze in the mirror. “I didn’t ask if you wouldn’t mind.”

            Scott flicked a glance his way once before giving his face one more scrub and shutting off the faucet, drying off with his towel. He was sure Isaac could hear his heartbeat pick up as he turned to face him. He didn’t look away this time. “Okay. I’d _like it_ if you’d look at me. Maybe not _instead_. Just.... also.”

            “I’m looking now,” Isaac pointed out, shifting just a little closer, just inside Scott’s personal space, but not a threat. Never a threat.

            Scott didn’t wait for a second invitation. He curled his fingers into the soft fabric of Isaac’s pajama top as Isaac leaned down just a little, just enough to meet him halfway and seal their lips together.

            The kiss was soft, as gentle and sweet as their first had been weeks ago, but less hesitant. Isaac had been worried the first time, afraid that Scott was not on the same page, afraid that Scott would ask him to leave. So scared that he had left before Scott had a chance to even react.

            When Scott pulled back, it was only enough to rest his forehead against Isaac's, eyes closed. "The camp's going to be up soon," he said softly. It would be easy for someone to walk in on them.

            "They're asleep now," Isaac murmured, tipping forward enough to press their lips together again. He curled his fingers into the hem of Scott's shirt but didn't move it. "We'll hear them coming."

            "Allison will be awake soon," Scott pointed out, though it wasn't exactly a protest, not with how he wriggled just right for Isaac to peel his shirt up and off, lobbing it toward where their towels rested.

            "We can't shower at the same time?" Isaac asked, nosing into the bare hollow of his throat. "It would conserve water."

            "Isaac," Scott intoned shifting so Isaac had to look at him. "The stalls are really small here."

            Shrugging, Isaac returned to nuzzling into Scott's space. "So we'll conserve water _and_ space," he reasoned.

            Scott huffed, giving a little eye roll. "That's not exactly what I meant," he countered, but his fingers were splaying on Isaac's belly, feeling the draw of his breath, the beat of his heart through the thin fabric.

            "I know what you meant," Isaac told him, stepping forward just enough to force Scott to step back or overbalance. He backed them up slowly, until Scott's shoulder blades hit the smooth tile wall. "And it's fine. I trust you. Less clothing."

            Chuckling, Scott obliged, pulling Isaac's shirt off and then sending it to join his own. "You're very demanding this morning," Scott observed as Isaac's long fingers worked at the drawstring of his sweatpants.

            "Are you objecting?" Isaac asked, looking smug when Scott shook his head. "And isn't this what we're supposed to be doing on this trip? Sorting out... this?" He nosed against Scott's ear, tongue following swiftly.

            Scott jumped at the contact and Isaac's fingers tightened on his hips. Sliding his hands over Isaac's, he held him in place until Isaac looked at him. "We're just showering," he clarified, as seriously as he was able half-dressed and half-hard with a half-naked Isaac pressing fingers to his skin trying to convince him not to make it just half anything.

            "Okay," Isaac agreed, slipping his hands from Scott's and finally untangling the wretched draw string keeping him at bay. The slide of his palms over the skin of Scott's hips was heavenly, catching the breath in both their throats.

            "Maybe just-" Scott started, stopped by Isaac's hum of agreement as he pressed their lips together again.

            They parted long enough for Isaac to divest himself of the rest of his clothing while Scott snatched the bottle of shampoo he'd brought, and then they were drawing the curtain closed on the small stall and Scott had Isaac's back to the wall, one hand tangled in his soft curls to pull him into another, longer kiss.

            "Water?" Isaac asked, breathless when Scott broke the kiss.

            Groaning, Scott fumbled for the knob of the shower, blinded by the thought that the best way to make this even better was to add the slick-slide feel of warm water sluicing over bare skin. The pipes were still warm from the previous camper, the water coming out room temperature for only a moment before turning the lukewarm of heated campsite water.

            Isaac tipped his head back into the spray, relishing the way it matted down his curls for a moment before bending to let Scott scrub in a dollop of shampoo. He leaned into the touch, into the soft drag of Scott's nails on his scalp. Scott didn't so much help him rinse it clean as completely distract him by running soap-slick palms down his torso, trailing to the touch of fingertips only as he reached his hips.

            "Scott," Isaac whined, not caring enough to be embarrassed by the tone as he canted his hips into the touch, reaching up to wipe water from his eyes.

            Scott's pleased smile greeted him, warm and slow and the tiniest bit hesitant. "Okay," he breathed, agreeing to the unspoken request, the wordless echo of _please touch please more touchmore_ that crackled between them. Isaac's head clunked back into the wall when Scott finally wrapped a hand around him, giving one long, slow stroke.

            Hands coming up to grip at Scott's jaw, Isaac silenced himself by hauling Scott into another kiss, just barely out of the water. This one was far from sweet; it was all hunger and fire and small, choked off noises of desire. So absorbed in the kiss were they that they didn't hear the approaching footsteps until the door squealed open on rust-heavy hinges.

            Both boys froze, listening to the sounds of another camper tossing his towel and supplies on the bench, presumably beside their own. Scott scrunched his eyes closed, resting his forehead on the pad of Isaac's shoulder, waiting for the inevitable realization that there were two sets of clothing on the bench and only one shower running. Several moments ticked tensely by, and then the shower curtain in the next stall was whisked open and the second shower hissed to life.

            The two exchanged glances. It was early; maybe so early the other person hadn't really been awake enough to notice anything amiss. Scott kept his voice low, knowing Isaac would hear him no matter what. "We'll hear them coming?" he teased lightly.

            Isaac made a face, and leaned back to finish rinsing out his hair. When he was done, he nuzzled in and pressed a quick kiss to Scott's cheek before whispering close to his ear: "You haven't gotten away this easily."

            Then he was gone, leaving Scott to finish on his own.

 

* * *

 

            “Texas,” Scott said, pointing lazily at the license plate of the truck roaring past them like it had any chance of intimidating them.

            “The last three were Texas,” Isaac told him tiredly.

            Scott let his head lean back against the headrest. “I liked the alphabet game better.”

 

* * *

 

            “Are you okay?”

            Isaac jolted at the sound of Allison’s voice and he reached for the radio to flick it down. It wasn’t _loud_ , exactly, but it had masked the sound of her soft footfalls as she walked up to the front of the RV. Before them the road stretched out, a black river under the bright blue sky. She wasn’t watching him and he couldn’t watch her without turning around, so he just gripped the wheel and listened to her leaning against the edge of the door frame between the front and back.

            “I’m fine,” he ventured hesitantly.

            “I mean, to drive,” she clarified. “You’ve been driving for like six hours.”

            “I’m fine,” he repeated. He spared a glance sideways at her.

            She hummed a soft noise of agreement, but she didn’t leave. Beside her, Scott was snoring softly, out cold after a couple of hours of staring at bland, wide-open road. Isaac didn’t mind. They hadn’t really been talking, anyway, and it was nice to just listen to the radio and drive for a while, especially after Scott’s awkward attempt to involve all of them in the same conversation.

            Just when Isaac had nearly forgotten she was standing there, she shifted and cleared her throat, tipping her head in Scott’s direction. “So much for staying awake the whole ride,” she said softly. He could hear the fond smile.

            “He doesn’t fall asleep in the middle of everything, I hope,” Isaac said flatly; but she snorted and when he glanced to her, she shook her head.

            “Not usually,” she told him, like a conspiracy. “Though there was that one time... right after exams...”

            Isaac peeled one hand from the wheel and held it up to stop her. “Please don’t tell me anything he’ll kill me for knowing later.”

            She chuckled, but allowed silence to lap over them once again. It was almost easy, just feeling the gentle rock of the RV, the beat of the radio almost inaudible over the noise of the engine. She had been worried about the pressure of being cooped up with them both, but it was easier than she had predicted. Isaac didn’t press her, even if Scott did. If anything, Isaac had been acting as a buffer since the campgrounds that morning.

            So she didn’t push him, either. She just watched the road sweep by, watched headlights and taillights appear and disappear around them. They still had at least an hour before they planned to pull over and sleep in a carpool lot Scott had found online, and she didn’t want to abandon Isaac to drive alone. He didn’t seem to mind.

            Which is why his question, when he finally spoke up, surprised her. “What are you doing?”

            She looked over, arms folded across her chest. “Doing?” she questioned. “Keeping you company do you don’t fall asleep.”

            A small noise of frustration roughed at the back of his throat. “That’s not what I meant,” he corrected, trying to pitch his voice loud enough that she could hear, but soft enough not to wake Scott. “I mean, I thought you were done with Scott. You spent the last year trying to _sort it out_ or whatever, and the last two months avoiding him completely... then suddenly you want to take a two-week-long road trip with him?”

            “And you,” she reminded him softly.

            He scowled, grip tightening on the steering wheel. “Yeah. That doesn’t make it any easier, I’m sure,” he told her. “We did this once, Allison. It was confusing enough then.”

            “None of us exactly had it together then, Isaac. I certainly didn’t,” she protested, remembering at the last moment to keep her voice low. She glanced to Scott, her expression softening a little.

            He saw the look, and he knew what it meant. “Look, just... you’ve hurt him. More than once. If you’re not interested-”

            “I’m here, aren’t I?” she interrupted.

            He huffed, a little derisive noise, but didn’t look over again. “I’m just worried about _why_.”

            “I just...” she trailed off and he knew she was looking at Scott.

            He knew the private smile she was wearing, even if he couldn’t see her. He knew the way her eyes went a little hazy and her shoulders dropped just a fraction and the way her scent changed, mellowed. Her next words weren’t even necessary for him to understand.

            “You know... I never stopped loving him,” she admitted, barely a murmur. “It’s just... I don’t know if it’s a good choice. Where can we even go? I’m a hunter. He’s a werewolf. You both are, and I don’t know if I’m strong enough to keep _us_ separate from _history_. Does that make sense?”

            “Not really,” Isaac told her. “Love’s not a choice.”

            “Yeah, well, acting on it is,” she retorted. “I don’t want to hurt people anymore. I don’t want to hurt anyone like I hurt Boyd and Erica. Like I hurt Scott.” He heard the click of her throat as she swallowed. “Or you.”

            “So don’t,” he replied hotly. “You’re not going to accidentally shoot someone with a dozen arrows. You won’t accidentally stab me twenty times, Allison. If you don’t want to hurt people, just don’t do it. Don’t... come on road trips if you’re just going to pull the rug out from under him. I can’t stand to see that again. I don't want to go through it again either.”

            “That’s not what I-” She cut herself off, though. She didn’t know what she meant to accomplish here. She didn’t know what she wanted, and if she lied about it, she knew Isaac would hear it. “I’m sorry,” she told him.

            He didn’t have anything to say to that. Sorry didn’t make up for anything. It didn’t take back the past two months, the majority of which Isaac had spent listening to Scott mumble about missing her and respecting when she told him no. Scott’s room became soured with the scent of misery until Isaac couldn’t stand it, until he had crawled into bed with Scott a little over two weeks ago, curling up around him, one arm around his waist, their bodies flush.

            Scott hadn’t said a word. Not then, not when they had woken, twined up together.        Not when Isaac had nuzzled their noses together, lips brushing.

            Not when Isaac had gotten up, dressed, and left.

            He couldn’t handle that again. He couldn’t handle the scent of Scott without Allison. He knew that was what it was, knew what the solution was, and he knew that there was a part of him that was angry with Allison for not knowing. Whatever words he might have used to explain never seemed adequate. It was something she had to figure out for herself, something Isaac would never be able to teach her.

            “That’s why I’m here,” she mumbled after a bit. He glanced over, and she gave a helpless shrug. “To figure this all out. What’s going on with Scott. Between us.”

            “Between us, too,” Isaac guessed.

            “Yeah,” she agreed. “We maybe have some issues.” When he didn’t respond, she shoved herself lightly away from the wall and brushed her fingers over his shoulder. “If you need me to take over driving, let me know.”

           He nodded, listening to her travel back to her seat on the couch, listening to her pick up the book she’d been reading. A little spark of anger flared, because he didn’t want to forgive her. He didn’t want her to swoop in after two months of nothing, and just take Scott away. But he also didn’t want Scott to be without her, without the person who had been such a huge part of his life since they’d met. He had spent a long time avoiding the idea that if he wanted Scott in his life, he was going to have to have Allison, too, but it was impossible to ignore here, in such close quarters.

            Sighing, he glanced over to Scott’s sleeping form, eyes landing on the almost imperceptible upturn of his lips. Listening closely, Isaac counted his heartbeats, eyes on the road before he spared another glance Scott’s way. He rolled his eyes.

            “Asshole,” he breathed.

            The quirk of Scott’s lips grew into a small smirk, and they lapsed into silence.

 

* * *

 

            “Maybe someone will drive by and rescue us,” Isaac said hopefully.

            “We are driving on a ghost road,” Scott reminded him, face scrunching. “We haven’t seen another car in like a hundred miles.”

            “It hasn’t been a hundred miles,” Isaac argued. “Maybe thirty.”

            “In forever,” Scott concluded. “When was the last time you drove thirty miles without seeing another car?”

            “We passed a gas station a few miles back,” Allison suggested, interrupting their quibbling. “We could walk back and get a couple of gallons. Enough to get us back to fill up.”

            “It was more than a few miles,” Isaac groaned.

            She rolled her eyes. “Like, ten.”

            “Like fifteen,” Isaac countered. He made a face and she made one back.

            “I think you can handle it.” Then she gave them both a look. “Don’t you run miles every day for lacrosse?”

            “Not in the desert,” Scott pointed out. He slouched a little lower on the couch and scrubbed at his face with one hand. “Look, I can go for it, if you two want to stay here.”

            “NO!” came the protest from both parties. Scott gave them a bewildered look, and Allison looked away. Isaac shifted uncomfortably and went on: “You shouldn’t be wandering around in the desert alone, is all. If something happens no one would know.”

            Scott looked dubiously between the two of them, but Allison managed to nod agreement and that settled it. “Okay,” he conceded slowly. “So, we’ll all go. Walking will be easier with all of us.”

 

* * *

 

            “Maybe we should have waited until it cooled off,” Isaac said, glancing sidelong at Allison. She gave him a tired, bitchy face, and walked past where he’d slowed down.

            “It’s a desert,” she shot back. “It doesn’t _cool off_.”

            “Actually, deserts tend to cool off drastically at night because they don’t-”

            “If you value your life you won’t finish that sentence,” Allison told Scott without looking back.

            Scott and Isaac traded a look.

 

* * *

 

            “Maybe we should grab an extra couple gallons and stash them in the storage compartment when we leave,” Allison suggested. They were still six miles from the gas station according to the hand-held GPS.

            “Maybe we should just not forget where the gas level is at,” Isaac sniped. Allison glared at him and Scott rolled his eyes.

            “It was my first time driving a vehicle that consumes gas like that,” he excused, frowning. “I didn’t think half a tank would go by so quickly. And why doesn’t it have, like, a low-gas alert?”

            Isaac’s eye-roll included half his body. “You have super hearing, Scott. You didn’t hear the ding?”

            “I may have heard a ding.”

            Scott was the only one to hear the little, sub-vocal growl Isaac gave. He decided to drop the subject.

 

* * *

 

            It had started as a low hum and a small smile half a mile back, something easily ignored. When Scott started mouthing the words, it went downhill fast, until the moment he actually began to sing off-key.

            “I would walk 500 miles just to-”

            “I will kill you,” Allison interrupted before Isaac could. “I know 6 different ways right now.”

            Isaac added: “I will absolutely help you bury the body.”

            Scott frowned, but closed his mouth.

 

* * *

 

            Two miles out, Isaac breathed a sigh of relief and pointed ahead of them. “Finally,” he huffed.

            Scott and Allison exchanged a glance. “Finally what?” Allison asked softly.

            “We’re almost there.” He pointed ahead again, to the station in the distance. “It’s just up ahead.”

            “Uh...” Scott looked to Allison again and then uncapped the nearly-empty bottle of water he was carrying and grabbed Isaac’s arm. When Isaac halted, Scott pressed the bottle into his hand. “Maybe we should take a break. Drink some water.”

            Isaac looked down at the bottle in his hand as if he wasn’t sure how it got there. “What?”

            “Drink,” Allison encouraged him, voice dipping down in worry.

            “Why? I’m fine,” he insisted, eyes tracking between the two of them. “What’s going on?”

            One more shared glance of concern before Scott said: “There’s nothing there, Isaac. We’re still, like, two miles away.”

            Scott wisely didn’t mention the scent of fear in the air.

 

* * *

 

            The gas station, when they finally reached it, looked like it had possibly survived some sort of zombie apocalypse. The windows were tan with dust and grime, obscuring the view except for a little bit of shadowy movement to one side, and the gas pumps looked like they hadn’t been used in at least three years. The ‘o’ in the red “Open” sign was flickering in and out of existence and there was a low hum in the air that made both werewolves uncomfortable the closer they got.

            “So, we skipped this place with good reason,” Allison stated blandly when they got close enough for her to see the details, too.

            “Yeah...” Scott agreed. He didn’t feel half as bad with her approval of driving right on by what appeared to be a death trap. “I thought we would have more time. Or encounter something else. Anything else.”

            “We encountered a lot of sand,” Isaac said numbly. “Maybe there’s air conditioning.”

            “Maybe there’s water,” Allison offered.

            They stood there, under the baking-hot sun for another minute, before Scott shook himself and gripped the red 5-gallon gas container a little tighter. “It’s just a store,” he told them, but it came out low and a little more nervous than he’d intended. “Come on.”

            Following him, the trio entered the little gas station market. The door jingled pleasantly, and the woman behind the counter looked up from her magazine to smile at them. She didn’t _look_ like an axe murderer, but despite the myriad things the trio had run into since Scott had been bitten, an actual axe murderer was not one of them. They didn’t mention it.

            “Howdy, folks,” the woman greeted them, voice as pleasant as her smile. When she glanced behind them and saw no vehicle, adding to it the sight of Scott clutching at the 5-gallon jug, she clambered to her feet. “You kids broke down someplace?”

            “Up the road a few miles,” Allison admitted, feeling much more comfortable. The air was cool and clean, even if the building looked shabby from the outside. “Like, almost 15 miles.”

            The woman looked surprised. “You walked all that way in this heat?” she asked, incredulous, gaze roaming between the three dusty, dehydrated, and exhausted teens, all of whom were nodding guiltily.

            “We just need to get enough gas to get the RV back here to fill up,” Scott reasoned, holding up the gas can.

            She frowned. “You won’t make it back before dark,” she told them, lifting a set of jingling keys from the counter and shaking them a little at them. “I can turn the sign off and take you back.”

            There might have been a time, a couple of years ago, where they would never have said yes to getting into a car with a stranger, even one as seemingly innocent as this smiling, kind-faced gas-station manager. That time was well past, with two of them being powerful werewolves and the other being a skilled hunter. All any of them felt when she offered was relief. “That would be wonderful,” Allison accepted.

 

* * *

 

            The sound of the RV’s engine grumbling to life was the sweetest noise any of them had heard all day. Scott listened to everyone’s heartbeats slow in relief, and smiled. He plodded down the steps, back to the road, and waved to the lady from the gas station. She pushed herself away from the hood of her car and walked closer, not knowing that Scott could have heard her if she had whispered without moving.

            “You want me to follow you back in case something happens?” she called as she neared.

            Scott smiled. “That would make us feel a little better,” he agreed. “We really appreciate all the help, you didn’t have to.”

            “I didn’t. But, I’d hate to have to explain what happened to you kids.” She motioned vaguely to the RV, where Allison and Isaac still waited. “It’s a good while to the next campgrounds, and there’s a hookup out back of the shop, if you want to stay the night.”

            “Oh,” Scott said, before thinking. Isaac appeared in the doorway, followed quickly by Allison. He knew Isaac had heard the offer, but he repeated it for Allison. “She says we can stay the night behind the station.”

            The conversation was brief and unspoken; they would be safer not driving overnight after their long walk that afternoon. It would be better to park someplace lit than to pull over on the side of the road; there may not have been pirates or bandits roaming the roads anymore, but there were many sorts of predators prowling the night.  Their group could probably handle themselves, especially with how much experience they’d had fighting for their lives. It wouldn’t hurt to have a solid place to stay.

            “Sure,” Isaac said with a shrug as they all turned back to her. “That would be great!”

            With a nod and a wave, she returned to her own car. They watched for a moment before Allison herded them back into the RV. She volunteered to drive but Isaac was the only one who felt safe turning the vehicle around on the thin highway, so she just plopped down in shotgun. Scott fetched everyone a fresh bottle of water and they settled into a wordless drive back.

 

* * *

 

            Groggy, Scott lifted his head from the pillow of his arms and tried to determine what had woken him. At first it was nothing, dead silence, the soft beat of two hearts, the quiet hum of electricity, the brush of wind against the RV and the shift of sand outside. Intending to ignore it all and sink back into sleep, he closed his eyes, focusing on the thump-thump of the hearts closest to him to lull him.

            Which was why he realized that one of the heartbeats was not where it belonged.

            He squinted his eyes shut tight a moment, and then flung off the thin sheet and oozed off of the couch into a semi-upright position. From the kitchenette came a soft huff of laughter and he looked over. Allison stood at the counter, watching him by the pale yellow light cast by the gas station lights through the small window over the sink.

            “Smooth,” she whispered, drawing a smile from him as well.

            “What are you doing up?” he asked, even as he noticed the glass of water in her hand. His own head was still a little fuzzy with dehydration.

            “Thinking,” she told him quietly.

            “‘Bout what?” he mumbled, rubbing at one eye with the heel of his hand. The digital clock on the microwave read 3:11am.

            “What we’re doing,” she admitted, taking a sip of the water. She wouldn’t look him in the eyes, but she could surely feel the weight of his gaze because she shrugged. “We barely talked the whole first day- and not just... about _us_. Just, we didn’t talk about anything. We’re three days in and... nothing.”

            Despite that he had been thinking the very same thing, he sighed. A part of him had been afraid of this before they even set out, worried that even if they spent four weeks cooped in a car together nothing would change; except for getting even more awkward.

            “We’ll get there,” Scott assured her.

            “What if we don’t?” She shot him a surreptitious look. “What if we just spend the entire month doing this?”

            “Is that what you want?” he prompted quietly. “It’s all a choice, Allison. We can choose to talk or not talk. We can choose to keep going or turn back.”

            She rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to turn back.” They both knew that wasn’t what Scott had meant and it wasn't surprising in the least that he sat silently and waited for her to go on. “It’s just... one of us is always driving. It’s not the best time to talk.”

            “So you want to take a day someplace?” he queried. There was a wad of brochures they had picked up at the first roadside stop they’d made.

            Pursing her lips, she shrugged and took another sip of her drink. “Yeah, I guess,” she admitted finally. “We don’t really have anywhere to be, so I think it wouldn’t hurt to take some time off.” Glancing over, she forced a small smile. It didn’t reach her eyes, more sad than anything. “No one’s chasing us anymore. They won’t catch up if we slow down.”

            He let out his breath, and tried to return the smile. “You’re right.”

            Hesitant, she turned and set her cup down on the counter, and then crossed the short distance to him. Scooting over, he made space for her to sit, his smile turning genuine when she sat just a little too close, pressing into his side more than was strictly necessary. More than she had in months. He lifted his arm, wrapping it around her shoulder and pulling her into a gentle hug.

            Bit by bit, she relaxed. She pressed her cheek into the pad of his shoulder, closing her eyes and listening to his heartbeat, loud in the stillness. They didn’t try to talk. Scott made no move to comfort her beyond being there for her, allowing her to stay, letting the tension drain out of her for as long as she needed. She liked that; liked that he wouldn’t push her. It made her miss him, miss being close to him, and so she just breathed him in and let the rest of the world fall away for a time.

            “We should sleep,” she managed, opening her eyes, already feeling hazy with sleep.

            “Okay,” Scott agreed, but though he loosened his grip to let her up, she didn’t move. “We’ll pick someplace to go tomorrow. If it bothered you, we can talk while we drive, too.”

            “Okay,” she murmured, fingers curling in the fabric of his t-shirt. “Thank you.”

            He hummed assent, cheek resting on the top of her head, soaking in the steady beat of her heart, the scent of her so close again. It felt good. Right. “Good night, Allison.”

            “Good night,” she mumbled, pressing a little closer.

            He let her, let her nudge him into laying down, and he didn’t object when she stretched out with her back to him on the couch. He felt her go lax when he tucked an arm around her waist and buried his nose in the nape of her neck. They both slept better than they had in months.

 

* * *

 

**Day 3**

 

            Allison twirled a brochure around her fingers and then tossed it on the floor of the RV between them. Isaac reached out and plucked it from where it landed, giving her a dubious look. “Wigwam motel?”

            “That’s three hours behind us,” Scott pointed out, trying to be gentle about it. There was still a lot of road between them and Chicago, and they would have to drive back at some point. Scott hadn’t forgotten what the strange camper-man had told him; they shouldn’t drive out farther than halfway through their allotted time.

            Isaac gave him a weird look next, then turned back to Allison. “Hey,” he said softly. When she glanced up from under her lashes, he felt his heartbeat scatter for a split second. “Have you ever been to one of those places before?”

            “I’ve never even heard of them,” she told him, almost guilty about it. “But, it’s sort of like in that movie about cars, right? With the traffic cone motels.”

            Both Isaac and Scott stared for a long moment before Scott hid his laugh in a cough and Isaac’s smile broadened. “How can we possibly resist after an admission like that?” he pleaded to Scott, who rolled his eyes.

            “We can go, it’s just… backward,” Scott consented. He wasn’t sure why they were both looking to him for permission or something.

            “Well,” Allison said, turning her gaze to Isaac briefly, all sorts of significance coloring the glance. “You said we didn’t need to have a plan. You said road trips were just about going, not going someplace.” She caught Scott’s attention next. “So, if we don’t have anywhere to be, then it doesn’t matter if we don’t get there on time, right?”

            Isaac’s smile was soft and warm. “I think she’s got it.”

            Scott spread the Wigwam Motel brochure out atop the small pile spread out over the floor, and tapped it smartly with one finger. “Wigwam Motel it is.”

 

* * *

 

            The click of the camera caught Isaac off-guard. He glanced over to where Allison sat in the passenger seat, her bare feet pulled up under her, knees close to her chin. A small disposable camera rested on the window sill, her finger on the shutter button as she watched the landscape roll by. She’d been quiet the past half an hour, ever since Scott had decided to open the care package Stiles had sent along with them. It had been a hundred kinds of embarrassing, tearing past the packaging and into the assortment of items.

            Isaac still wasn’t sure he wanted to know where Stiles had gotten military-grade road flares, especially considering that Allison didn’t recognize them at all, which meant Chris probably hadn’t given them to him.

            He wasn’t particularly sure he wanted to know where Stiles’ mind had been for most of the rest of it, either. A first aid kit, emergency phone, a flashlight his father was probably going to miss because it definitely doubled as some kind of bashing weapon, a three-pack of MREs, a booklet of road games, and a road map atlas of the USA were among the less embarrassing of the assortment.

            The bottle of synthetic lube, three packages of different sorts of condoms, bottle of chocolate syrup, and book titled _The Threesome Handbook*_ with a hand-written note that said "Guess there actually is a handbook" were among the more embarrassing.

            The disposable camera in Allison’s hands was one of three Stiles had included in the package. Scott had made off for the back of the RV with the completely messed up Rubik's cube and instructions to Allison and Isaac to _do some talking_.

            Isaac wasn’t even sure what that was supposed to _mean_.

            Allison didn’t seem to have a similar problem understanding. “My mom never locked me in a freezer.” Even though she couldn’t hear his heartbeat skyrocket, she turned to look at him, shifting around in her seat so she could do so without having to put her feet down. “But she wasn’t exactly mother-of-the-year either.”

            There were probably more eloquent ways to approach the subject. After taking a moment to breathe and remember that it was in his past, Isaac swallowed and nodded.  There was a part of him that appreciated the direct approach; so many other people stepped around it like he would break if they even mentioned his father. The part of him that wasn’t scrabbling away from the memories of darkness and fear and closed in spaces. The part of him that still flinched internally when anyone picked up an object too quickly.

            “Scott said we should talk,” Allison offered, when Isaac couldn’t find the words to answer.

            “You kind of went for the throat there, Allison,” Isaac mumbled, prying his fingers loose from the steering wheel. There was a split second where he thought maybe she would apologize, but she just fixed him with a sort of patient, blank stare until he caved. “He wasn’t always like that.”

            “What changed?” she asked. Just curious, not prying. Isaac relaxed a little more.

            “My mom left,” he said, staring straight ahead at the sunny road. They were still an hour out. “My brother signed up for the military when he turned 18, and she blamed my father. I was ten.”

            The _you?_ was unspoken, but she heard it anyway. “My mom was always like that, even when I was little.” She scrunched her nose and then stretched out her leg, pulling up one leg of her pajamas. Along her calf, high up, there was a ragged, three-inch scar. Isaac swallowed; he’d had scars like that, once. That was a scar that should have seen a hospital visit and didn’t.

            “What happened?” he breathed, meeting her eyes before turning back to the road.

            She let her pants shift back down as she made a face. “We were out in Oregon, I’m going to guess they were hunting and didn’t tell me. I was staying with an uncle, and we were all packing up to leave. I fell down the stairs, took a picture frame with me, and the corner hit me at the bottom.”

            “And she…?”

            “And she hauled me down the stairs and put me in the kitchen and got the first aid kit,” Allison continued, tone full of distaste. “And then she made me stitch it up myself.”

            Isaac swallowed. “This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I pictured having a heart-to-heart with you, you know.”

            Allison huffed out a laugh, some of the tension draining from her. “I didn’t know what else to say.”

            “Half an hour sitting there and three days on the road, and that was your best bet?” Isaac teased, but gently. She made a face at him,  but didn’t respond. After a time, he continued. “I didn’t- he never made me _stitch myself up_.” He sighed, rolling his eyes a little. “He didn’t leave marks, usually. It was all a power trip, I think. Like, after my brother went for the military and mom left, he used to talk about _discipline._ How that’s what Cam didn’t get enough of, that’s why he left, and I wasn’t going to leave because he’d show me enough _discipline._ ”

            She winced. “He was wrong, you know.” When Isaac looked over, she was staring at her hands, twisting her fingers together in the way she always did when anxious. “To do that, I mean. Hurt you.”

            “You’d know,” he said softly.

            He heard the catch of her breath, the heavy thud of her heart. “I’m sorry, Isaac,” she breathed, knowing he could hear. “You know I’m sorry for any time I’ve hurt you. I'm sorry for... last spring.”

            Letting his hands go lax on the steering wheel, he let out the breath he’d been holding. He hadn’t realized how much he had wanted to know she still felt that way. “I forgave you then,” he reminded her.

            “You haven’t,” she told him. It was by no means an accusation, laid between them as another apology. She gave a little shrug. “And that’s okay. Sometimes I think you shouldn’t.”

            “You’ve made up for it,” he amended. “Saved people. Even saved me a couple of times.” He glanced over at the same time as she did, and offered a smile. “Road trips require a lot of moving. Maybe it’s time we moved past all of that?”

            His smile echoed on her features, ghost-soft. “I’d like that.” He could practically feel the relief radiating from her.

            “Me too.”

 

* * *

 

            The place was quaint and old and dustier than any of them had imagined, but not in a bad way. The wigwam motel rooms were clean and Isaac supplied that perhaps they had sprayed them down to clean them or something. Allison pointed out that water would only make more dirt stick, and that was when they caught sight of whatever unfortunate employee was standing out in the sun brushing some kind of specialized broom over the surfaces of the far buildings.

            Allison insisted on paying for the room because it had been her idea, and neither Scott nor Isaac bothered trying to argue through her determined face. They had both learned better over the years. They just silently collected the keyring that was handed to them and Isaac left to park the RV around back.

            Tossing her bag on the left-hand bed, Allison’s gaze settled on the bed to the right and she stiffened, heartbeat picking up. Scott touched her arm, the barest brush of fingertips, voice laced with concern. “What’s wrong?”

            “There’s only two beds,” she explained, motioning between the two. Scott’s gaze followed and he hummed a little noise of acknowledgement.

            “We can work it out,” Scott told her. “It’s not like…” His jaw closed so fast his teeth clicked and he lifted his fingertips from her skin as if suddenly aware of just where this was heading.

            "It’s not like we haven’t shared beds before?” she finished for him, raising one mocking eyebrow. “You’re right though.”

            “You can pick,” he offered quickly. “If you want to sleep alone, that’s totally fine. If Isaac wants to sleep alone, I can-”

            “Isaac doesn’t want to sleep alone,” Isaac said from the open doorway behind them. Both Allison and Scott turned to look, and he shrugged. “Just saying.”

            Pursing her lips, Allison eyed both of them for a moment and then made a noise of surrender. “I suppose it doesn’t matter.” She indicated the right-side bed with a tilt of her chin. “You two can have that one.”

            The boys glanced between one another before Scott shrugged and tossed his backpack on the bed, Isaac’s following a moment later. “I call first shower,” Scott said, taking off for the small bathroom at the back of the motel.

 

* * *

 

            In the end, it didn’t matter who started off where. By the time morning came, all of the blankets were on one bed, atop a pile of warm, sleepy bodies.

 

* * *

 

**Day 4**

 

            The small windows high up on the front wall did very little to suffuse the room with the light of dawn. It wouldn’t have particularly mattered if the room was lit with a floodlight; all three of them woke underneath the pile of covers they’d nested in the night before. Allison was the first to move, wriggling out from under the covers and onto her feet beside the bed. She turned back just in time to catch Scott mid-yawn.

            “What time is it?” he mumbled, voice scratchy and low.

            “About ten,” she told him, fighting an answering yawn. They’d slept in far later than they had since departing Beacon Hills.

            Scott accepted the time with a little hum, carding his fingers through Isaac’s hair. The other stirred, but didn’t open his eyes. “Do you know where you want to go?”

            She wasn’t sure if he was talking about their drive or their relationships. Despite having said she wanted to talk about _them_ , the prospect was a lot scarier when faced with it in person and so she grabbed the more innocent of the suggestions. “No.” She shrugged. “I figured we could look at the brochures again, pick someplace new.”

            “I like the round barn,” Isaac mumbled into Scott’s leg. “It’s round.”

            Both Scott and Allison exchanged a look. “What?” Allison asked on a breath of laughter.

            Brow scrunching, Isaac cracked open his eyes and met hers. “As long as we’re going in circles, we may as well fit in.”

            A blush colored Allison’s skin. “We’re not going in circles,” she attempted to reason.

            “You called the other bed to sleep alone, but you were the one who got up to come over here,” Isaac interjected before she could get further. “You told Scott you wanted to talk more. Now you don’t want to talk. That seems like a circle.”

            “I want-” Allison stopped herself, holding up one hand to keep them quiet as well. “I’m not ready to talk about this.” She motioned between the three of them.

            “You’re going to have to, eventually,” Scott interrupted softly. “That’s why we’re all here, right? You said so yourself.”

            Scowling, she took a breath to argue, thought better of it, and shook her head. “I’m going to take a shower.” With that, she spun on her heel and disappeared into the tiny bathroom at the rear of the room.

            Isaac closed his eyes and laid his head back on Scott’s leg. “That could have gone better.”

            Scott swatted lightly at him and Isaac chuckled, knowing exactly what it was for. “You don’t need to push her first thing in the morning,” Scott said anyway.

            “She’s honest in the mornings.” Isaac shrugged without opening his eyes. “So are you.”

            “I’m honest all the time,” Scott countered, tone full of mocking haughtiness.

Isaac scoffed, but couldn’t stop the smile. “You know I can hear your heart, right?”

            “Yeah?” Scott asked, voice gentling suddenly. “And what’s it say?”

            For a moment Isaac was quiet. The sound of the shower starting rushed through the room, filling the silence. He waited until the sound of the curtain opening and closing had passed, then stroked a hand down Scott’s shin to ensure he had his attention. “It says you’re glad she came along. You’re happy she switched places last night.”

            “I am,” Scott agreed. He let his fingers slide soothingly into Isaac’s hair again, just enough pressure to feel good. “Does it say anything else?”

            “I know what it’s about to say,” Isaac told him. Scott felt the grin against his skin.

            Humoring him, Scott asked: “What’s that?”

            One hand planted on the mattress, Isaac pulled away from Scott’s hand and sat up, twisting to face him and letting his grin melt into a warm, sly smile. “It’s about to say you want to kiss me,” he answered, listening as Scott’s heartbeat sped up a fraction at the words.

            “Are you psychic?” Scott asked, smiling cheekily even as he leaned forward.     Isaac met him halfway, noses brushing lightly before lips, eyes sliding closed. It was brief, just a couple of heartbeats, soft and sweet, before Scott leaned back again. His eyes roamed over Isaac’s features for a few seconds before his face fell. “Do _you_ want to talk about it?”

            “Not really,” Isaac said, making a face. “I hate talking about it.”

            Scott sighed, rolling his eyes as Isaac wormed his way back down to catch a few more minutes of sleep.

 

* * *

 

            “Hey, hey look! Guys,” Scott called back from the driver’s seat. Isaac jerked awake on the couch, mumbling sleepily and looking around like maybe they were under attack.

            “‘Swrong?” he slurred, looking toward the front.

            Scott chuckled, but he was pressing on the brakes, pulling off the road. “Nothing’s wrong. But look!”

            Still exhausted from their late night at the festival, Isaac managed to haul himself up to the passenger seat to stare out the window. “Oh,” he said smartly, yawning. “Not going to lie, that all looks delicious right now after every fried thing we looked at last night.”

            Smiling, Scott parked, and nodded to the back. “Should we wake her?”

            “Do you want to deal with not waking her?” Isaac countered.

            “Good point,” Scott conceded, making a noise of protest when Isaac opened his door and hopped down. “Where are you going?”

            Isaac just flashed him a grin. “Well I don’t want to deal with waking her.” Then the door clicked shut, and Scott was left to wake Allison on his own.

 

* * *

 

            They spent longer than they’d meant to at the open-air produce market, picking out fresh vegetables and fruits that they could snack on for the next couple of days. Allison picked out a bag of apples that would cover a week’s worth of lunches for all of them while Isaac strayed more toward the strawberries. Scott picked up everything they would need to make fresh salsa, Allison daring him to pick up the hottest peppers they could find to chop and add. Isaac reminded her that they were werewolves; if they burned the taste buds out of their mouths they would heal. She rolled her eyes and told them she could handle the heat.

            Isaac took over driving when they left, laden with all the fresh food needed to counter the terrible diner food they’d been eating, so that Scott could show Allison how his mother had taught him to blend fresh salsa. He made her repeat each step as they went, along with every step they had done so far, until she could recite the entire recipe by rote.

They had to stop for chips, but it was completely worth it to sit on the floor of the RV in the parking lot, watching Isaac and Allison’s eyes roll back in enjoyment.

 

* * *

 

            The second flash of light in his direction drew Scott's attention to where Allison was curled in the passenger seat. The camera dropped to her knee as she watched him, steady and level. “You have pictures of me,” he pointed out, though he smiled. He didn’t mind her taking pictures of him, but there would be plenty of chances for her to do that back home.

            “Maybe I want more,” she quipped, almost carelessly.

            “Well, you can take as many pictures of me as you want when we get home,” he reasoned. Stiles had given them the disposable cameras to take pictures of the trip, not of one another driving.

            “Are you telling me I can’t take any pictures of you now?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow. He wasn’t sure if it was because the order was ridiculous or because he might be giving it at all.

            “No,” he said slowly, hoping this wasn’t some sort of trap. “I just thought maybe you’d want some pictures of the landscape.”

            For a moment she was quiet, and then she raised the camera and pretended to click the button before shifting around in her seat and looking out the window. Though her answer was quiet, barely audible over the grumble of the engine, he still heard it.

“The landscape isn’t changing.”

            He didn’t ask what she meant. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

           

* * *

 

            It hadn’t been an idea so much as an accident that landed them crawling through the side-roads of the small town, avoiding the teeming mass of people traveling the length and breadth of the main road. They had meant to stop for gas, maybe grab lunch on their way to the Round Barn attraction, and had found themselves following the hand-painted signs to the “First Annual Fun-In-The-Sun Festival.” They weren’t even really sure where they were, except that there was only one real road with a blinking yellow light in the middle of it and no indication that this was actually civilization.

            “We could stay,” Isaac suggested, looking over to Allison. They both glanced back to Scott, who was surveying the festival through a side window.

            “We’ll be late,” Allison responded.

            “Is that okay, Madam Schedule?” Isaac asked, though he was smiling when she turned a glare to him, obviously just teasing.

            “I don’t mind,” she said carefully. “It’s not like we really have a plan, right?”

            “The plan is to not have a plan.” He chuckled when she rolled her eyes.

            “Semantics, smart-ass.” She glanced back to Scott again. “So?”

            He shrugged, looking back. “I don’t care, whatever you guys want to do. It looks friendly.”

            “There’s a carnival,” Allison pointed out, tipping her head in the direction of the small Ferris wheel lording over the handful of vendor tents and games. “I love cotton candy.”

            “Then how could we refuse?” Scott turned away to start looking for his shoes as Allison began looking for somewhere they could safely park the RV.

 

* * *

 

            The festival turned out to be as fun as any small-town festival. They split an elephant ear pastry while wandering between booths full of arts and crafts and colors. Allison purchased a new pair of sandals that had been hand decorated and Scott found a vendor selling freshly-made lemonade they were all grateful to share.

            Halfway down the road, Isaac stumbled upon a booth full of wood-shaving flowers, all scented to smell like their real counterparts, and he insisted that they get a small bouquet for Scott’s mother. They each selected a few, and the vendor wrapped them in a plastic bag and tied it off to preserve the scent for them. Isaac carried them around like a treasure, like they would fall apart if he didn’t handle them with the utmost care.

            After a while, the allure of the carnival proved too much. The sun was on its way to setting and the lights were flickering on, rainbows of color splashing up against the darkening sky. Music started up from somewhere beyond the gates as they headed inside, creaky and live and booming. If they couldn’t hear the words of the woman introducing the show, well, it didn’t really matter.

            They headed straight for the Ferris wheel, stopping only long enough to choose a flavor of cotton candy for Allison. Their fingers were sticky with sugar and flavor as they stood in line, watching the lights twirl around slowly, stopping at intervals so the passengers could look out over the town or the rolling land beyond.

            When it was their time, Isaac scooted in first and took up the entire side with a languid grin, forcing Scott and Allison to sit together on the side opposite him. Neither of them complained, although Allison swiped the cotton candy away from him when he reached for it and Scott chuckled instead of trying to save him.

            The view was beautiful.

            The town was not quite as small as they had thought, the houses fanning out from the central street in a dappled pattern, many of them with just enough land around them to grow gardens or have small pools or chicken hutches. The bits of land made a patchwork pattern, almost like a quilt, each square a little different from the ones around it.

            “It’s nice,” Allison murmured, leaning close to the edge of the little car as she stared out over the scenery. “It all looks so normal.”

            “It probably is,” Scott agreed. He wasn’t watching the landscape so much as he was watching Allison.

            “Sometimes it’s hard to remember what life was like before… you know, werewolf problems,” Isaac commented. His eyes were roaming over the town lights as well, an oddly furrowed expression on his face.

            Smiling softly, Allison looked askance at him. “A lot like this, I think.”

            “This?” Isaac asked, tipping his head a little.

            She returned her gaze to the town. “Yeah,” she said softly. “This. Not, you know, festivals and Ferris wheels and cotton candy. Just, hanging out. Feeling safe. Looking at beautiful things.”

            “We still look at beautiful things,” Scott pointed out. He smiled when she turned to look at him. “That was kind of cheesy, wasn’t it…”

            “Kind of,” Allison told him, and though her nose scrunched, she didn't stop smiling in return.

 

* * *

 

**Day 5**

 

            When they arrived in Arcadia, the round barn was about the only thing in the area. It was a lot bigger than they had expected, though every bit as round as advertised. Allison was the first to reach it, running her fingers over the painted-red lumber that comprised the outside of it. All of their gazes tracked upward to the slanting room, and Allison raised a hand to block out the sun and get a better look.

            “It’s actually round,” she observed, sounding slightly surprised. “I mean, the boards are actually curved.

            Scott glanced down at the brochure in his hands and squinted. “It says here that the original architect cut the wood himself and soaked it while it was still green to warp it. Apparently the neighbors thought he was nuts.”

            “Well,” Isaac said, like it was an argument. Like maybe the guy had been. He squinted a little in the bright sunlight. “I guess he showed them, though.”

            “Must have taken a long time to build,” Allison said, patting the side of the barn.

            “It does, when you want to build something that lasts,” Scott suggested. None of them were sure if he was talking about the barn.

            The inside was nothing like the outside, except that it, too, was round. The ceiling vaulted high above them, what seemed like hundreds of lights illuminating the brown interior. The floor was solid and smooth, and there was some sort of raised platform surrounded by railings in the center. Isaac moved away to go and stand in it, but nothing special happened. No lights, no change in sound dynamics, no prerecorded presentation.

            “I read they used to use it for dances,” Isaac mentioned idly, looking down to them. “Anyone want to give it a whirl?”

            Allison looked to Scott, who nodded toward Isaac with an odd little smile, caught somewhere between approval and surrender. When she turned back, Isaac was focused on Scott, giving him a similarly odd look. “I will,” she volunteered softly.

            When Isaac hopped off the short platform, Scott backed up a few paces, giving them space. Isaac extended a hand to Allison with a flourish and a bow, and she took it, palm warm and smooth against his. It was nice, the gentle way he gripped her hand, drawing her close to him. She realized with small flush of warmth, that he’d meant slow dancing. Of course he meant slow dancing; any other sort without music would have looked ridiculous.

            “Isaac,” she mumbled, nearly a protest despite that her free hand splayed on the pad of his shoulder. She was acutely aware of Scott watching them, but the whole of Isaac’s attention was upon only her. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

            “It’s just a dance,” he reasoned, low and smooth, the words rolling through her like the burn of a good whiskey. Where his hand rested feather-light on her hip was alight with heat. “Unless you want to stop?”

            She swallowed, then shook her head a minute amount. She didn’t want to stop; she didn’t want Scott to get hurt, but she didn’t want to stop. It was confusing, especially with the quiet approval her decisions garnered from her ex. Everything he said indicated that he still wished they could be together and yet everything he did, every look, every warm smile, indicated that he didn’t mind that they weren’t.

            Or perhaps, she thought as she let Isaac draw her closer, slipped her hand up to rest atop his shoulder and leaned in close enough to rest her forehead against him, to hear his heart beating a little too fast, it was that Scott just wanted her to be happy, however that would be.

            If there was ever anything in the world she knew she shouldn’t let go, it was the one who wanted that for her. She just didn’t know what to do about it. So she closed her eyes, put the thought away for later, and danced.

 

* * *

 

            She pushed him up against the side of the RV, wrists rucking up his shirt as her palms slid heavy over his ribs, up his sides. He broke their kiss just long enough to gasp her name before she dragged her nails back down, robbing him of any desire for words. He dipped back down to capture her lips with his once more, thoroughly enjoying the breathy little whine that escaped her.

            He hadn't meant to let it get this far, but now that they were there, unlatching the RV door and stumbling through the entrance, up the couple of stairs all hands and tongues and stuttered panting, he found he really did not want to stop.

            They had left the round barn without further incident. Scott had mentioned that there was another attraction nearby, someplace they could stop for dinner and rest. Allison had happily agreed, marveling at the giant, brightly-lit soda bottle display on the brochure. They'd had to park out of the cast of the lights from Soda Pop's, but the night was pleasant and clear, the breeze gentle and warm.

            The food had been good, and the soda in glass bottles was incredibly charming. Allison had insisted that they toast just to hear the bottles clink, and when they'd run out of food and drink, she'd suggested they keep the bottles as souvenirs. She'd stood to leave, Isaac following suit, but Scott had waved a hand at them and dragged out his cell phone.

            "I'm just going to stay a little longer, call my mom and check in," he'd said, but Isaac could hear the lie even if he didn't quite understand why. "Maybe Stiles too."

            It had been only Allison's slight scowl that clued Isaac into what Scott was doing- giving them space, leaving them alone with one another. Letting them have a chance, like he had let them have a chance last winter. But Allison didn't say anything, even though Isaac _knew_ that she knew just as well, so he didn't say anything either. They'd just cleaned up and told Scott to bring the bottles back with him.

            He wasn't going to touch her, wasn't going to let Scott get away with passive-aggressive match-making again, but the moment they were out of sight Allison reached for his hand and he'd stopped dead.

            "He's doing it again, isn't he," she commented, resigned. It wasn't even in the same universe as a question. "Just letting go because he thinks he knows what's best."

            "Yes," Isaac answered truthfully. There was no sense in lying to her; she'd been there last winter too. She'd seen how poorly it ended for all of them.

            He didn't want to talk about any of it, especially not while he was still mad at Scott, so when she began in with "we should really talk to him-" he'd just leaned down and softly brushed his lips over hers.

            The noise of surprise she made was not unpleasant, and then her hands were on his cheeks and she was kissing him back. Her relief was almost tangible, a heady scent wreathed around him, mixed with all the sour smells associated with how tense she had been, how carefully she'd been controlling herself. Then she was tugging him toward the RV, and he didn't even bother pretending to resist.

            Which was how they'd ended up staggering the length of the RV, until the backs of her calves hit the edge of the bed in the back and Isaac spared half a second of thought to the realization that he would have to thank Stiles for the care package if it went any farther.

            Then his name was falling from her lips as she dragged him onto the bed as well, and there was no more room for errant thoughts.

 

* * *

 

            Scott sat backwards in the passenger seat of the RV, Rubik's cube in hand, twisting it senselessly in the darkness. He had no goal of fixing it at the moment, just turning the blocks to give his hands something to do. In the back, Allison lay curled up in bed with Isaac, their heartbeats as slow and even as their breathing.

            The whole interior smelled of them, of Allison and Isaac and sex.

            There was a point in his life where he might have balked at the whole idea, of knowing what had happened, at the idea of his ex getting so close with one of his best friends. But he’d given Isaac and Allison that space, had been nudging them together slowly but surely. Despite that they had cracked windows to lessen it, Scott didn’t mind the scent. He had expected it to feel wrong, to feel like it meant he was not in control.

            It just felt like _right_. It just felt like _family_.

            It all smelled like _pack_ , happy pack, and he could find nothing wrong with it except for how _temporary_ it felt. The road trip wouldn’t last forever. Eventually they would have to go home. Eventually they would have to go back to that horrible place called _real life_ and everyone would expect them to have this - whatever this was - worked out. They would expect to be able to congratulate a happy couple and console a lone wolf.

            Scott scowled, giving the Rubik's cube a twist. It creaked in his hand and he softened his grip so as to not bust the toy apart into pieces.

            His gaze dropped down, settled on the multi-colored cube resting in his open palm.

            Once, when they were younger, Stiles’ father had given him a mixed up Rubik's cube for his birthday. For a while, Stiles had twisted and turned the patterns around, handing it to Scott for a time and they worked together to try and right the color scheme. No matter what they had done, they could never get more than three sides the same at once.

            Then one morning, Stiles had come knocking on Scott’s door, and he had presented Scott with a completed cube, a shit-eating grin on his face.

            “How?” Scott had asked. They’d been trying on and off for weeks.

            Stiles’ cheeks colored prettily, guilt in the set of his shoulders when he shrugged. “The rules were dumb. I just took it apart and put it back together how I wanted.”

            Looking back up, Scott settled his gaze upon Isaac and Allison, and an idea began to stir.

 

* * *

 

**Day 6  
**

 

            "You know what happened." It wasn't a question. They all knew what had happened the evening before, even if they hadn’t actually talked about it afterward.

            "I know," Scott admitted, nodding a little but not looking away from where he stared out the window, sleep still heavy on his eyelids. His back hurt from falling asleep in the passenger seat, thinking. The Rubik's cube in his hands lay still. “Of course I know.”

            "So?" Isaac prompted.

            "So what?" Scott replied, not taking the bait. He knew what Isaac wanted, and wasn't willing to give it to him. He wasn't going to start a fight over this. He wasn’t sure exactly how he felt, but it wasn’t angry.

            "So say something," Isaac said, somewhere between a plea and an order, confirming Scott's suspicion.

            "What do you want me to say?" Scott asked, a little exasperated, trying to scrub the sleep from his eyes. It was far too early for this conversation.

            Isaac scoffed, irritated. "I want you to get angry," he bit out, trying to stay focused on the road, his grip a little too tight on the wheel. "I want you to give some indication that you _care_."

            "Isaac," Scott chided, finally looking at the other wolf, fingers a little too tight on the toy in his hands. "That's not fair. You know I care."

            Sighing, Isaac twisted his hands on the wheel, trying to find the right words. When he spoke, his voice was soft with apprehension. "Why are you pushing us, Scott? How do you see this ending?" He glanced over quickly, but Scott was staring hard at the toy in his hands again. "You're going to lose someone."

            "Hard to lose someone I don't have," Scott pointed out.

            "You have me, Scott. If you want me, you have me. And whether she ever says it out loud again or not, you've got Allison, and that's never going to change," Isaac told him, so firm that it sounded angry.

            Scott looked back out the window, at the rolling landscape as it slid by. He gave the Rubik's cube a gentle twist. He wasn’t trying to make it work anymore. He knew how to fix the puzzle, he just wasn’t sure he could put it back together again if he broke it.

            "You like her." He listened to the uptick in Isaac's heartbeat.

            When Isaac answered, a long moment later, it was with a certain amount of resignation, the fight draining out of him. "I shouldn't."

            "I didn't say you should," Scott told him quietly. The cube clicked in his fingers as he shifted it around. "I said you do." It was far from an accusation.

            He didn't expect an answer and wasn't surprised that it took a few miles for Isaac to respond. "What do you _want_?" It was barely a breath, cracked around the edges, and they both knew Scott wouldn't have an answer. "Would you rather lose both of us?"

            "I'd _rather_ not lose either of you, if it's all the same to you," Scott told him tiredly, letting his temple clunk against the glass to his right. “That’s our exit.”

            Isaac shot him a glare, but he coasted the RV toward the exit anyway. Their discussion wasn’t over, but Scott was already clambering to his feet to wake Allison. As much as Isaac wanted to talk about it, he didn’t want to do so in front of her.

 

* * *

 

            It took them a while to find it, and a while longer to park, but all of them thought it was worth it as they approached the edge of the memorial. The sky was clear and blue, the sun not quite beating down as just filling every space around them with shine and warmth, sparkling off the shallow stretch of water between the two coppery-colored walls. The hills adjacent to the water were covered in smaller monuments, markers in the shapes of chairs for every individual that had lost their lives in the Oklahoma City bombing.

            “There’s so many,” Allison breathed, hand coming up to her mouth as she scanned over them.

            “Hundred and sixty-eight,” Isaac quoted, shoulders hunching a little. “Lots of kids, too.”

            Scott made a sympathetic noise and began to head toward the walls. Glancing to Allison, Isaac followed him a pace behind, watching his feet rather than the monument. Allison lingered a moment longer, staring out over the entirety of the monument, taking in every bit of it before she, too, followed Scott down to the stretch of water.

            For a time, they wandered the length of the pool, observing the other onlookers. Many of them stood in the shade of one of the walls, squinting at the small sea of chair memorials. Across the pool, by the other wall, some of them were dipping their palms in the water and then pressing their hand to the sun-warmed wall. Isaac nudged Scott’s arm and pointed it out, and the trio traded a look before making their way slowly over.

            As they neared, Allison realized the strangest thing about the memorial site; no one was talking. Even Isaac had communicated silently. None of the strangers pressing temporary, water-prints to the metal wall were talking to one another. The air was solemn, respectful in a way Allison had assumed only happened on sacred ground, maybe inside of churches when everyone was told to be quiet. It was a mix of eerie and comforting.

            They watched a couple more people press handprints into the metal. Scott and Isaac could smell the faint, acrid smell of softly-seared flesh clinging to the air, the coppery scent of the wet metal twining around it. Every hand that was pressed to the surface left a hand print; most of them over the top of dozens of other hand prints, the entire wall full of new or fading marks that said, quite simply _I was here_. It had an air of sympathy and solidarity.

            Allison bent first, soaking her hand in the shallow water and cupping a little bit of it to keep her hand moist while she traversed the distance. The metal was scalding under her hand as she pressed it onto the surface, but she bit back her hiss of pain and let it burn for a moment. _You are not forgotten_ , she thought as she pulled her hand away again.

            Beside her, Scott and Isaac reached up and pressed their hands to the wall on either side of her mark. Their hands were bigger, the prints bracketing hers protectively. She glanced to one side and then the other, catching sad smiles from both of them, and then cast her gaze up to the top of the wall.

_We come here to remember._

_Those who were killed, those who survived and those who were changed forever._

_May all who leave here remember the impact of violence._

_May this memorial offer comfort, strength, peace, hope, and serenity._

            Dropping her gaze, she turned and walked back to the water, dipping both her hands in again. She moved to a different part of the memorial, watched intently by Isaac and Scott, and laid one of her hands to the hot metal surface again. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she pulled away and with the water still on her other hand, she wrote _Victoria_ beneath it. She looked to Scott and Isaac just in time to see the light of realization dawn in the eyes.

            Wordlessly, they returned to the water as well, each of them dipping both hands and walking to where Allison had placed her hand. She was writing her aunt’s name beside her mother’s.

_Kate_

_Camden_

_Dad_

_Erica_

_Boyd_

_Heather_

            Scott traced the last one for Stiles and let his finger trail off, eyes roaming over all of the hand prints they had taken the time to make. He looked to Allison, who smiled weakly at him and gave a little, helpless shrug.

            “It says we come here to remember,” she murmured. “Maybe they’re all someplace safe now.”

            “Maybe,” Scott agreed, holding out a damp hand to her. She slid her hand into it, and he pulled her into a hug. Isaac watched with a faint smile, catching Scott’s eyes, his own shining just a little with unshed tears. He turned his attention back to the hand prints, already fading, and reached out to brush his fingertips over Erica’s name before wiping at his eyes.

            “We should go.”

            Nodding, Scott released Allison and they took just a moment longer to look out over the memorial before turning away to head back to the parking lot.

 

* * *

 

            After the memorial, they spent the rest of the day wandering around Oklahoma City, directed by several shopkeepers to explore Bricktown. There were plenty of stores for them to duck into, relishing the respite from the sun and heat. If it was more subdued because of their somber morning, none of them were willing to point it out. Allison found a flyer advertising a light show at a fountain on the edge of town, and they hopped a bus in what they hoped was the correct direction.

            It turned out that it was, the cab they took spitting them out a block away on the edge of evening, the sky all gold and red with the setting sun. When they arrived at the fountain, the area was mostly deserted and the lights were already going. Isaac found them a spot of unoccupied sidewalk where they plopped down, heedless of the adults giving them disapproving looks, and just _rested_.

            The cab ride back to where they had parked the RV was more sleepy than anything else, all of them a little overexposed to the sun. Allison's cheeks were the only ones stained pink and she fell asleep against Scott's shoulder on the way. Isaac curled his fingers into Scott's and put his head on Scott's other shoulder, without saying a word.

 

* * *

 

**Day 7**

 

            Scott opened his eyes the following morning to the feel of someone watching him. The scent of freshly made coffee suffused the air and he blinked slowly, taking in the sight of Allison in her soft, white pajamas standing against the edge of the kitchen counter. Both her hands were wrapped around a blue mug and she smiled, slow and easy, when she noticed him looking back.

            "St. Louis," she declared before taking a sip.

            "Huh?" Scott asked, sitting up a bit on the couch and rubbing at one eye with the pad of his palm. He listened for a moment to catch Isaac's heartbeat, outside the RV. "How long have you been up?"

            She rolled one shoulder. "Half an hour or so. Isaac thinks we should go to St. Louis, Missouri. Route 66 runs basically right through it."

            He squinted at her, parsing the new information, and then waved a hand to dismiss it. "Whatever you guys want is fine with me. Is there more coffee?"

            Reaching behind her, she produced a second mug and passed it over to him. He eyed it, debating whether drinking it black was worth it or not, before taking a sip. It was somewhere between warm and hot and he wondered if she was going to wake him up before it got cold. "Isaac paid the site fee," she told him idly. "I think he's hauling anchor."

            Scott nodded. He could hear Isaac unhooking them from the electric and water on the parking spot. "Why St. Louis?" he asked.

            "Lots of stuff to do," she answered, then tipped her head in thought. "I think he wants to visit the Gateway Arch."

            "He does!" Isaac called from outside, and Allison rolled her eyes. Scott smiled and took another sip.

            "On the way, I thought we could stop by the Blue Whale attraction."

            Her hopeful face gave him the distinct impression that she was asking _permission_ , running the plan by the leader. It couldn't work like that. "Stop it, both of you," he said, knowing Isaac would hear too. "If you want to make plans, make plans. I'm not your parent."

            "We know," he heard Isaac say outside. Allison couldn't possibly have heard it, but she said "We know that, Scott. But you have a say in where this goes."

            He was really getting a headache at how quickly they all went from talking about the trip to talking about Them. "I know." Looking up when the door opened, he nodded to Isaac. "I'm still trying to figure out where we _are_."

            "We're here," Isaac replied easily, snatching the third cup of coffee from behind Allison. "We're away from everyone but ourselves. We're all working out what we want. Where we want to go." He glanced to Allison and she sighed.

            "You're acting okay again." No matter how gently she said it, it was still an accusation. "You've done this before, Scott. Told us everything was okay, told Isaac and me that we should do what makes us happy, and that you'd be happy too. It was a lie then, and it's a lie now."

            Scott could feel the flush on his cheeks. "I do want you to be happy."

            "You make us happy," Isaac told him, glancing to Allison for confirmation. "Except when you're doing this... this _distance_ thing. Just... giving up."

            "You _want_ a fight?" Scott asked. There was no malice, no accusation, just simple, helpless curiosity.

            "No," Allison explained firmly. Scott could hear her heart beat pick up slightly; she was angry with him. "We want you to think there's something worth fighting for."

            "Hasn't there been enough fighting for things in our lives?" Scott pleaded, looking between them. It was clear they had talked about this, though when they'd had time to sort anything without him hearing was beyond him. "Can't you - both of you - be worth _not_ fighting for?"

            Allison pursed her lips and then turned to set her empty mug on the counter top. "I'm going to drive, Scott, and you're going to sit up front with me."

            When Scott turned to look at Isaac for help, Isaac just gave him a _you got yourself into it_ face before retreating to the bedroom with his coffee. Scott heaved an exasperated sigh and wondered how his good intentions had decided to gang up on him in return.

 

* * *

 

            "There's a difference between _not knowing where to go_ and _not going anywhere_ ," she informed him an hour into the drive. It was the first she'd said to him, and he didn't have an answer.

 

* * *

 

            They drove past the Blue Whale attraction the first time, so absorbed in their thoughts that neither of them saw the sign indicating which exit to take. Scott saw it a moment too late and they had to loop around at the next exit and come back, which did exactly nothing to improve Allison's mood.

            "Did we even bring swimsuits?" Isaac asked dubiously as they unloaded from the RV, crane-necking to see around the entrance to the pond-side attraction. There was a pair of kissing whales over the arch.

            "I don't think you can swim anymore," Allison told him, nudging him forward and out of the way. "Besides, it's a _pond_ ," she continued, as though that explained everything.

Scott and Isaac traded looks. "Leeches?" Scott guessed.

            "Amongst other things," Allison called back as she headed for the entryway. Scott raised his camera and imitated a clicking noise so that she turned.

            There was a tense moment where none of them were sure Allison was going to let him take a picture, right up until another tourist called from where they were just arriving:            "Hey, you want me to get all three of you?"

            Allison relaxed, breaking into a brilliant smile for the newcomer. "Sure, that would be great. My boyfriend always tries to weasel out of them." She indicated broadly enough to include both of them, and the woman hesitated, unable to parse which boy she'd indicated.

            "Oh uh, well!" she exclaimed, motioning the boys closer to Allison as she took the camera Scott handed her. "Why don't we make it really special then? He can kiss your cheek for the picture! You know, the Blue Whale was built by Mr. Davis for his sweetheart. It's practically a symbol of love!"

            "Is it?" Allison asked lightly, as though she had no idea. "Well that's perfect!"

            The woman smiled and raised the camera to her eye, motioning for them to get close together for the picture. "Now, kiss her cheek, young man, on the count of three! One... two... three!"

            Leaning in, both boys gave her a kiss on the cheek, Isaac's hand splaying out over the small of her back as he leaned down. A nervous noise of surprise bubbled out of the woman as the flash went off, and then the camera was being pressed into Allison's hand and the woman disappeared back to her family, who were watching with only a little confusion.

            "There are easier ways to chase off bystanders," Scott suggested, glancing sidelong at Allison.

            She shrugged and tossed him the camera. "I spotted picnic tables," she said instead of answering. "I'm going to make lunch. You two maybe have some things to talk about."

 

* * *

 

            "Do we?" Scott asked, picking at a loose splinter in the wooden picnic table.

            "Do we what?" Isaac responded, watching him. Allison still hadn't come out of the RV. Neither of them had any idea where to start, so they had just wandered into the attraction. The woman and her kids were stomping around inside the whale, poking their heads out of the circle windows and taking pictures. Otherwise the place was deserted.

            "Have some things to talk about?" Scott asked. "Things we haven't already talked about."

            Sighing, Isaac laid one hand over Scott's, forcing him to look up at him. "I don't want to go in circles, Scott. We did all this once before; you dating her, me dating her..."

            "You don't want to be with her?" He sounded a little incredulous, like he couldn't imagine how anyone could not want to be with Allison. Isaac knew the feeling, and that was part of the problem.

            Still, he rolled his eyes a little. "I know how hard this is for you, Scott, but try for like ten seconds to have a conversation about Not Allison. Like maybe one about you and me."

            "Oh." Scott's voice dropped over the syllable as realization dawned. "Just us?"

            "Just us," Isaac confirmed, soft and a little relieved. "I can't..." He stopped, trying to pick his words carefully. He withdrew from Scott and dropped his gaze to his hands before taking a breath to steady himself. "That's why she left."

            Scott tipped his head a little, brows furrowing.

            Isaac dragged hand over his mouth and then ran it through his hair, resting his head on his palm. "In the spring," he explained, still not able to meet Scott's eye. "When she left me, she said I needed to sort things out with you. I thought she meant, you know, the way you just stepped aside for me, since we never talked about it."

            "But she didn't," Scott concluded for him.

            "No." Isaac sighed, finally risking a peek. "I never said anything, but she knew that I-" He paused, swallowing whatever admission had made it to the tip of his tongue.

            "That you wanted to be with me, too," Scott supplied.

           " _Yes_ ," Isaac rushed, latching onto the words. He shook his head, voice going a little strained. "I don't want to choose, Scott. But it's got to come down to that, hasn't it? And I don't even- we don't even know what's _between us_."

            Scott swallowed, mouth gone dry. "You... do you want to find out?"

            "Yeah," Isaac admitted, head cocking a little to catch the slam of the RV door. He knew Scott heard it as well. "If you do."

            "Okay," Scott said quietly, even though there was no chance Allison could hear him. "I think we can do that."

 

* * *

 

**Day 8**

 

            The tension didn’t disappear after that, but it eased considerably, more than enough for them to enjoy the fruit and sandwiches Allison brought out a short while later.

            The attraction itself wasn’t as exciting as it could have been; though they all agreed it would have been a lot of fun back in its hay-day, when travelers could cool off from the intense heat of summer with a swim in the pond. Allison maintained that the leeches were not worth it, and Scott argued lightly that there were probably less of them when it was maintained and cleaned. Isaac suggested they time travel to find out and got pelted by apple cores from both of them.

            They had managed to find a campground within driving distance, one with real showers and a picnic area with a grill. Allison took the camper back to civilization to get fresh ground beef for hamburgers, abandoning them to interact with the other campers. It wasn’t a chore; there were only a few people in the midweek, and all of them were friendly. Scott and Isaac ended up watching over some kids at the little playground while their parents made dinner, grateful for the help. Though they were invited to the campfire that evening, they politely declined, wanting to get on the road early.

            Early ended up being an understatement when an alarm went off on Allison’s phone at six thirty the next morning. Since they were all up anyway, they’d gotten themselves together and managed to escape the park with only one semi-awkward goodbye to their temporary new friends.

            “To St. Louis?” Isaac had asked as they pulled out of the park and Allison handed over the Atlas Stiles had given them.

            “Yeah,” Scott agreed.

 

* * *

 

            “There’s a poem about a rainbow bridge, you know,” Allison commented, standing between the driver and passenger seats. The line of cars in front of them was short, but each one was being stopped by a guy before they could cross the little white bridge. Both boys looked over at her in question. “I think it’s about dead pets.”

            “That sounds dark for a poem about a rainbow bridge,” Isaac said. He sat in the passenger seat, turning the Rubik’s cube he’d been working on for the past half an hour. He was no closer to solving it than any of them had gotten.

            “Doc’s got a copy hanging in the office,” Scott told them. “It’s about how when pets die they cross the rainbow bridge to someplace where they can be young and play and be happy until you join them.”

            “My statement stands,” Isaac affirmed, giving a little nod.

            “It’s not very... rainbowy,” Allison observed, motioning ahead to the bridge.Everyone looked for a moment, but the bridge remained a clean, pretty shade of plain white.

            “Technically white is the full spectrum of colors, in light,” Scott told her. She made a face at him that he didn’t see.

            Isaac shrugged. “Maybe it has to do with the arch bits,” he suggested. They all looked again, tipping their heads as if a new angle might provide additional information.

            “Someone else can pick the attraction next time,” Allison told them, crossing her arms and settling against the wall beside her.

 

* * *

 

            Three hours later found them still on the road, Scott in the driver’s seat and Isaac lounging on the passenger side. His heartbeat kept slowing periodically and Scott knew he was falling asleep, toy clutched in both hands to keep it from dropping. Behind them, Allison was stretched out on the couch, facing them at least, with a book open on her lap. He’d been alternating between listening to the snap-crunch of her eating an apple and the passages she was reading them from the book.

            “How much longer?” Isaac mumbled, sitting up a little and blinking at the long stretch of road still ahead of them.

            “Less than an hour,” Allison commented without looking up from her book. Isaac glanced back to her and then to Scott, who nodded.

            They lapsed back into silence for a few miles, even Allison with her reading, thinking about their destination. They had agreed to get an actual hotel room for their St. Louis stay and leave the RV parked someplace safe. Isaac had found them a nice, cheap hotel with continental breakfast and an in-house restaurant. Allison called to make the reservation and made the call to her father to let him know they were using his credit card. He’d insisted on a full report since she hadn’t checked in with him in a few days and hearing from Scott’s mom second-hand was not ideal.

            “Hey,” Isaac said, pointing ahead of them on the road. “Hey, look.”

Looking as Allison got to her feet and moved for the front, Scott began to slow the RV. Flicking on the emergency flashers, he steered them toward the shoulder, stopping just behind the mini-van with the busted wheel. “Do we help?” he asked.

            “That would have been a really great question like thirty seconds ago before we stopped,” Isaac told him. “But now we’re stopped.”

            “I think he meant is it safe to help,” Allison suggested.

            “We’re werewolves,” Scott pointed out. “It’s probably safe. What are the chances-”

            “Don’t,” Allison demanded, jabbing a finger at him. “Don’t jinx it. Whatever you were going to say, just forget you even thought about it and get out of the vehicle. Go.”

            Scott unbuckled at the same time as Isaac and opened his door, not bothering to try to get past Allison. She watched him go for a minute before grabbing her phone and heading out the back door. By the time she got outside, a woman was already out of the minivan and heading toward them with her arms somewhere between folded and wrapped around herself.

           “We lost a tire,” she called to them when they were close enough she thought they could hear. Scott reached her first, moving just within comfort range.

            “Do you have a spare? I think we can change it for you,” he offered.

            “No, I mean… we _lost_ it,” she clarified, motioning vaguely behind her. “It sheared off the bolts and went bouncing off across the highway.” She managed a weak attempt at a smile. “I don’t think it’s coming back.”

            “Have you called someone?” Allison asked, scooting a little closer.

            The woman shook her head. “We don’t carry cell phones… I guess we should after this, eh?”

            “It’s okay,” Scott assured her as Allison held up her phone. “We can help. If we can’t get someone out here we can at least get you and your kids off the road.” She gave him an odd look and he blushed a little. He’d been listening to their heartbeats, just a little too fast to be adult beats and he had no good way to explain it, so he just smiled.

            “That- thank you,” she said, relief evident as Allison began to search for the closest towing company. “We’re almost home, but we’ve been on the road for hours. You’re the first people to stop. I was afraid we were going to have to walk!”

            “We’ll make sure you don’t have to,” Isaac jumped in, smiling as well. “Do you guys want something to drink? We have bottled water in the RV.” He pointed over his shoulder with a thumb.

            She glanced back to her van, chewing her lip in indecision. It was hot, and even though losing a tire didn’t mean the car had to be turned off, there was a limit to how long children would sit still without getting cranky. With a little nod, she smiled. “Yes, thank you.”

            Isaac ducked away from the group just as Allison managed to connect to the towing company. She passed the phone to the woman, who accepted it with a grateful murmur. Turning away from the group, she began to give her information and describe what happened. Allison moved closer to Scott and gave him a dubious look.

            “Do you want to stay until they get here?” she asked. “Just in case?”

            “Yeah, I don’t see why not.” He shrugged, glancing to her. “It’s not like we’re in a hurry, right?”

            “Yeah,” Allison said, looking toward the woman, who was running a hand through her hair, stressed. “Can you hear them?”

            Scott took a beat to decide if she meant the kids or the phone conversation, but decided he could hear both. “Yeah. The kids are bored and the tow guy says he doesn’t have room to truck all of them back together.”

            “We could take her,” Allison suggested. “It’s not like we don’t have room.”

            A smile twitched at Scott’s lips. “Take a detour? Deviate from the plan?” he teased gently. She scowled at him.

            “I think we’ll survive,” she said. “Isaac?” Though she called his name, she watched Scott, who tipped his head to listen to the answer.

            “He says fine,” Scott reported. “I can offer when she’s off the phone.”

            Isaac emerged from the RV at the same time as the woman hung up the phone, bottles of water in his hands. She took them from him with more thanks, and they trailed after her to her car so she could give them to her kids. As almost an afterthought, she introduced herself as Loraine, and her kids, Jimmy and Megan. They traded their names in return, and it was another moment before Scott shuffled a little before taking a breath.

            “So, we figured we’d stay until they came to pick you up,” he said slowly. “Make sure that they get you taken care of, if that’s okay.”

            “Oh,” she said, shoulders dropping. “Oh, you don’t have to. I’m going to have to call a cab or something because they can’t take all of us together. It’s going to be a while.”

            Scott tossed a surveying glance to Allison and Isaac, and gave a small shrug. “Well… we could take you, if you want. You said you’re almost home and we don’t mind at all,” he rushed to say, before she could protest. “We’re actually just, you know, road tripping. Nowhere to be late for.”

            At that, she smiled, relief flooding her features. “That- that would be really great.”

 

* * *

 

            “How’s it feel?” Isaac asked. Dusk was heavy on the horizon behind them, the night sky laid out before them and Isaac has his feet propped on the dashboard while they drove. They had spent the afternoon helping Loraine and getting her home, staying to eat dinner with her as thanks for helping get her home safely.  It was only a few more miles until they would hit the KOA campgrounds outside of St. Louis.

            “How’s what feel?” Scott answered, not taking his eyes from the road.

            “It’s been a few months since we had to save anyone,” Isaac said. “Especially damsels in distress.”

            “I’m not sure Loraine qualifies as a damsel,” Scott said dryly. “And she’d have been fine without us.”

            “No one else was stopping,” Isaac pointed out, sounding every bit the devil’s advocate.

            Scott just sighed. “Someone would have.”

            “That’s called the bystander effect.” Isaac waited a beat, and then: “If you think about it, we sort of beat human nature.”

            Finally, Scott glanced over. “We’re not human.” It was only a soft reminder, not an argument. His attention slid back to the empty road.

            Isaac watched him for a moment, and then turned back to the Rubik’s cube. He had managed to solve two sides at once earlier, but the colors were a mess again. He smiled anyway. “I think it feels good.”

            Scott didn’t ask which part Isaac meant- saving people or being a wolf.

 

* * *

 

**Day 9**

 

            When arrived in St. Louis, the sky was covered in puffy white clouds, laced with blue and shining every time the rising sun peeked out between them. The city was alive, bustling with people going about their morning routines without paying much attention to anything around them. Allison insisted they carry a camera with them and as they hopped off the bus onto the warm sidewalk, they were glad she had. Arcing far above them was the Gateway Arch, slender and steely and beautiful against the patchy blue-and-white background.

            “It looks like it should just fall over,” Isaac said, holding up a hand to block the sun as it broke through the cloud cover along the horizon.

            “I think it’s probably safe,” Allison told him. “People go up to the top all the time.”

            “People also dive with sharks and jump out of planes and wrestle bears,” Isaac countered, giving her a dubious look. “That doesn’t mean it’s safe.”

            “We don’t have to go to the top,” Scott said, moving past them. “But we should go walk around it as long as we’re here.”

            Isaac cast his gaze upward again and Allison nudged his arm. “This was your idea,” she pointed out gently, smiling when he looked at her.

 

* * *

 

            The view from the top was breathtaking. Sprawling out in every direction was the city, the Mississippi River snaking through it, sluggish and muddy colored, reflecting sunlight in an ever-changing pattern of glitter. Allison leaned upon the gentle slope of one of the ledges leading to the small viewing windows, eyes wide. Beside her, Scott leaned against the ledge as well, Isaac behind them both with a splayed hand on each of their backs like he expected them to fall out.

            “I wonder how far down it is,” Allison mused, raising her camera to snap a picture.

            “It says 630 feet,” Isaac provided. His heartbeat had finally come down from the tiny elevator cars that had taken them to the top. Scott had held his hand the entire ride up, Allison using a low, soft murmur to keep him paying attention to her instead of the cramped space. “That’s how wide it is, too.”

            Allison hummed in thanks for the information, and then slithered backward off the ledge, Scott following suit a moment later. “Did you ever come here… you know, with Camden?” she asked, tipping her head.

            “No,” Isaac said, face falling a little. “He’d talked about taking Route 66 when he came back for good but…” He shrugged, smiling wanly. “It didn’t work out.”

            None of them knew what to say to that. Scott reached over, slipping his hand into Isaac’s, who gave it a grateful squeeze before releasing him. “I saw some restaurants along the river,” Scott offered. “We should go get something to eat, take a walk around the city.”

            “You’ve got your phones?” Allison asked, holding up her own. They fetched their phones from their pockets and showed her, and she smiled. “I’m going to stay up here for a bit. Think about flying. Watch the river.”

            “Do you want us to grab something for you to go?” Scott asked.

            “Nah,” she said. “I’ll grab something and meet up with you guys in a bit.” She shooed them in the direction of the elevators.

            The ride down was about as tense as the ride up, Isaac scooting out the door as soon as it opened. Scott grasped onto his forearm and led him through the crowd until they were in a clear area, listening intently to the beat of his heart, the too-quick rasp of breath, until Isaac had calmed. They didn’t talk about it; Isaac just gently tugged his wrist from Scott’s hold and motioned for them to move on.

           They meandered their way through the crowds, down to the river front. A cool breeze was blowing in over the water, both wolves raising their noses to catch the scents it brought with it. A dizzying plethora of human scents mingled with the muddy water and delicious food. They spent a while waffling between two restaurants with views of the arch, eventually deciding on the one which sat on the river’s edge. By the time they chose, Allison was down from the arch and made it to them in time to order.

            “There’s a zoo,” she said when she sat down. Both boys gave her a curious look, and she shrugged. “Maybe we could go. Maybe they’ll have wolves.”

            “We could look it up,” Scott suggested.

            “Or we could just go,” Allison countered. Isaac smiled into his drink at just how much she was embracing the attitude of just going and doing things without a plan.

            Scott chuckled. “Or we could just go,” he conceded as the waitress arrived.

 

* * *

 

            The zoo was not as crowded as they had expected or as empty as they could have hoped. The number of strollers they had to pass was at a minimum, and though the exhibits had viewers, the trio still found themselves able to view the animals uninterrupted. They meandered along the path, stopping when they felt like it, going when they were ready. It was pleasant, the sort of pleasant that resulted from not having to stress over a plan or a destination.

            The afternoon heat was really setting in by the time they settled for lunch at one of the zoo-sponsored restaurants. Isaac picked because he wanted a salad, at which Allison and Scott both scoffed and picked up steaming burgers. They had eaten with quiet conversation, deciding where to go next.

            “I haven’t seen wolves,” Allison commented. “There’s nothing about them on the map, either.”

            “Not every zoo has them,” Isaac said, shrugging and stabbing a quartered tomato.

            “Don’t you guys want to see the real deal?” she asked, tipping her head a little and looking to Scott for confirmation. “I mean, you’re practically related. Maybe you could learn something.”

            “We’re not _actual_ wolves,” Scott reminded her, running a fry through the mountain of ketchup on his tray, through the line of salt on top. He hadn’t salted the fries; it never stuck. “I don’t know how much we could learn by looking at a few laying around.”

            Allison hummed, but ultimately shrugged. “We’ll just have to find some somewhere else.”

            That seemed to settle it for them, and they finished the rest of the meal with a conversation about the African exhibit. Isaac stopped by the counter once more to purchase a souvenir cup filled with ice-water, and then they were off again.

 

* * *

 

            Isaac fiddled with the lid of the souvenir cup almost an hour later, trying to get it to fit back on the way it had before he had decided to remove it to get at the ice within. It was not cooperating in the least, almost sentient in the way it avoided closing the last few millimeters of rim, sliding the open portion to an area he wasn’t touching. It was too hot to be fussing with it for long, and finally he just set it down and stared at the restrooms.

            “So?” Allison asked from beside him, leaning against the same railing. They were finally alone enough that she could ask. “Have you talked to him?”

            “A little,” Isaac admitted, jaw a little clenched in frustration with the cup.

            “And?” she prompted.

            “And nothing,” Isaac said, exasperated. He looked over at her raised eyebrows and then shook his head. “Look, I’m not- it’s not my _job_ to pick, Allison, and it’s definitely not my job to make him pick. Especially when the two of you can barely talk without-” He cut himself off, looked away again. “Even if we get sorted, Scott and me, you two aren’t, and nothing’s going to work until that happens.”

            She looked back toward the restrooms and then sighed, because Isaac was right. He’d said as much before when they talked, and she’d managed to convince him that he needed to work it out with Scott first. She’d though maybe she would get some _time,_ and maybe that the boys would manage to figure themselves out without her. Maybe she wouldn’t have to work anything out; they’d decide to stay together and she could move on like she’d been planning on doing for so long now.

            The problem was that nothing seemed to go according to plan around Scott or Isaac, and when they were together she found herself ending up with no sense of direction or ability to find a course of action. It was as though Isaac’s plan for their road-trip - to ditch all plans and do whatever they wanted - had been applied to her life when she wasn’t looking. He certainly wasn’t making it any easier for her.

            “I don’t even know where to start,” she mumbled, shoulders slumping a little.

            “Where did you start before?” Isaac asked.

            Chewing on her bottom lip, Allison thought back to when they had met, the day Scott had entered her life by handing her a pen and giving her the most charming little smile. “We’re different people now,” she said. “It’s not going to be that easy.”

            “It’s never _easy_ ,” Isaac said, barely containing his eye-roll. “If it was easy, you’d have done it ages ago and we wouldn’t be standing in the middle of a zoo in Missouri talking about it.”

            “Where do you suppose we would be?” she asked tentatively. If all of this, all of their lives, hadn’t been one big mess, she couldn’t fathom where she might be right now.

            But Isaac just shrugged. “I know I’d be worse off. You’d be in the dark.”

            “My mom would be alive,” she added quietly.

            “Maybe,” Isaac conceded. “Or maybe it would have just happened another way. She was into this before Scott. You can’t blame him for that. You can’t blame him for trying to protect you from it; all this… supernatural crap. It’s hurt a lot of people.”

            “Not knowing hurt people too,” she said.

            Isaac perked, obviously hearing what she couldn’t. “Maybe,” he agreed, quieter. “But he did the best he could. We all did. Time to move on.”

            Allison watched as Scott emerged from the restroom, still drying his hands on his jeans. He flashed them both a smile as they shoved away from the railing and formed back into a group with ease. Isaac shot Allison a look as they headed for the park entrance, both eyebrows raised as if to say _well_? She just nodded, accepting his advice without words. She would talk to Scott, when she was ready.

 

* * *

 

            “It’s a sanctuary,” she said triumphantly, shooting her phone across the smooth kitchen floor so that it bumped lightly against Scott’s heel. They’d left the zoo early, planning on making their own dinner at the RV. “ _And_ it’s right around the corner. We should go see it before we head out for Chicago.”

            Scott lifted the phone, tipping it to rotate the screen and see the website. There were pictures of wolves on it and as he tapped a finger to it, schedules and events came up. “You really want to see real wolves.”

            “Yeah,” she confirmed, like there was no other option even able to be considered. “Of course I want to see real wolves. You should want to see real wolves.”

            “They’re not real wolves,” Isaac said from the couch. They both looked over to him until he felt the weight of their stares. “They’re captive wolves. It’s not really the same thing.”

            “They’re still wolves,” Allison told him.

            Isaac rolled his eyes. “Can you pet them?”

            Looking back down at the phone, Scott clicked around until he found an event that would allow them to meet at least one of the wolves. “Um, I think so.”

            “Then they’re too domesticated,” Isaac concluded, sounding a little too smug.

            Allison made a disgusted noise. “That’s like saying you guys aren’t real werewolves because you don’t go running around killing people on the full moons. You’re still werewolves.”

            “There’s still a difference,” Scott conceded the point to Isaac. “But we can go!” he finished quickly. “I mean, it’s not like we have any other plans tonight, right?”

            The others agreed, and Allison flopped back onto the floor. “Check out the events page,” she suggested, much less combative now. “There’s a campfire howl. Maybe they aren’t, you know, wild wolves, but it would be cool if they howled back to you two.”

            Scott looked up in time to see Isaac hide a grin. “You just want to hear us howl,” Scott teased lightly.

            Allison just rolled her eyes again. She wasn’t about to admit that was exactly it.

 

* * *

 

            The place was larger than any of them had expected, with more greenery and open space. They were greeted at the entrance by a very nice young woman who guided them through the various tours they could take until they picked the most basic one anyway. Both Scott and Isaac were distracted from the moment they stepped out of the RV, heads tilted and eyes unfocused through most of the decision making. Allison knew the look; they were listening to things she would never be able to hear from this far away.

            “Not real wolves?” she asked Isaac softly as soon as they were alone. He made a face at her before losing focus into the distance again.

            “They’re making noise,” he told her. “Just little noises.”

            Scott’s eyes were closed. “Can you hear all the heartbeats?”

            Isaac made a little sound of agreement. “We should see them.”

            “We have to wait for the tour,” Allison told him, opening up the brochure they’d been handed by the greeter. “It’s supposed to be starting soon.”

            Exchanging a look, Scott and Isaac moved around Allison and began to head toward where they could hear the wolves. She stared after them for a beat, then threw a panicked glance around to see if anyone was watching. They weren’t, and she hadn’t really expected them to be; the boys had learned enough about concealing themselves and watching out for people following them that avoiding the keepers at the park wouldn’t be an issue for them.

            “You can’t just go exploring,” she hissed as she caught up with them, scooting close. If they were getting caught, she wasn’t going to get caught _first_.

            “They’re not going to catch up to us,” Isaac said idly, keeping pace with Scott’s determined strides. “We’ll hear anyone coming. Relax.”

            She didn’t relax, but she did fall silent, walking at their heels until they reached the edge of one of the enclosures. She only knew they had arrived when both boys drew up short, heads lifting at the same instant. To their right lay the fence of an enclosure and just beyond it stood two wolves staring calmly at them. Allison froze, unnerved by how still they were standing, looking at Scott and Isaac with golden eyes and heads tipped slightly.

            “They heard you,” Allison breathed, eyes wide. “They came over because they heard you.”

            “Smelled us, more likely,” Scott said, lifting his nose a little to the scent of the wolves. “They’re bigger than I thought.”

            Moving forward, Isaac leaned over the railing a little. One of the wolves moved forward, right up to the fencing. “They’re _beautiful_.”

            Allison wisely did not say _I told you so_ , although she couldn’t keep the smirk from her face. “Come on, boys. Let’s take an actual tour.”

 

* * *

 

            The private tour ended up taking a little over two hours, but it was worth every second. They all had questions that their guide was happy to answer, spilling information about wolves far beyond what they had asked. She was very friendly, leading them from enclosure to enclosure, and it was clear that she loved all of the wolves, naming each one, telling the trio about the histories and personalities.

            When she asked if they were going to stick around for the campfire howl, they happily turned over the extra money and followed her out to the area. A small family was already present, standing with a second guide, who was explaining to them how to howl. He waved them over and their guide wished them luck.

            “Sometimes they don’t howl back,” she warned them as she left. “But I have a good feeling about tonight!”

            The trio chuckled somewhat nervously, but waved goodbye all the same. The guide by the family greeted them, showing them how to cup their hands and telling them how to pitch their voices so that the wolves could hear them. “They like to start around dusk, so we’ll give it a go in just a few minutes!”

            “They’ll answer you,” Allison told them when the guide turned his attention back to the family.

            She was right.

            As dusk fell, the guide encouraged them to howl out to the wolves, even adding his own voice with his face upturned and his hands cupped like a megaphone around his mouth. Scott and Isaac traded a look; the calls were so _quiet_ compared to what they were used to. Allison nudged at both of them, whispering for them to face away from the group just in case, and then they were all three throwing their heads back and howling.

            It was evident, painfully so, that Scott and Isaac’s howls were unnatural, but the moment they started, all of the wolves at the sanctuary answered. The boys fell silent, eyes closed as they listened to the howls echoing all around them.

            Allison held her breath, hands clasped over her mouth. Of course she had heard Scott and Derek and even Isaac howl before, but this was _different_. This was a whole pack, calling out to one another, closing the day, answering a call. This was long, haunting tones, drawn out over the setting of the sun, wrapping around some part of them that remembered the wild. She startled when she felt Scott’s fingers brush her own.

            “We were wrong,” he whispered beneath the howls.

            “They’re real wolves,” Isaac said from her other side. “Thank you.”

            She just nodded, throat too tight to speak.

 

* * *

 

            Scott twitched his foot away from the bonfire, the sole of his sneaker steaming as he set it on the dirt. Warmth leeched up through the bottom of it, guard against how cool the night had gotten. He closed his eyes, listening to the beat of Isaac’s heart from where he leaned against Scott’s side. The sun had set long ago, shrouding the area in darkness except for a few lamps from other campers.

            The crackle of the fire was low and soft and the sound of music from across the park drifted on the night air. He couldn’t hear Allison’s heart; she had gone to the front of the campgrounds to shower, but Scott knew she wasn’t coming back soon. She had taken a change of real clothes with her, running clothes, and he knew she planning on taking a jog around, stretching out her muscles, working out the kinks from sitting the RV for too long, from driving and wandering.

            Relaxing back against the picnic table, Scott tipped his head to the side, enough to rest against Isaac’s head. A sleepy murmur met the motion, but Isaac didn’t move away; if anything, he snuggled a little more firmly against Scott’s side.

            “Gonna add a log?” Isaac asked, voice a little scratchy from having drifted off.

            Scott hummed rather than respond with words. The fire was slowly burning down to embers, enough that they could kick it apart and turn in. Allison would come back whenever she was ready. He pressed a little closer to Isaac, rubbing his cheek along the top of Isaac’s head, eliciting a little rumble of approval. “C’mon,” he mumbled, nudging his shoulder beneath Isaac’s cheek, until he sat up and began to stretch.

            “Allison’s not back?” Isaac asked, looking around.

            Shaking his head, Scott clambered to his feet and began to prod the coals apart with a long stick. Isaac watched until the fire was broken enough to abandon, and then nosed into Scott’s space before he had a chance to let go of the makeshift poker. Scott let him, eyes closing as Isaac’s warm hands slid down his arms, circling his wrists, gently removing the stick from his grasp and letting it fall to the ground.

            “Isaac-” Scott started, though the protest died when Isaac’s lips ghosted up the line of Scott’s neck, dry and soft.

            “You said you wanted to find out,” Isaac murmured against the shell of his ear. Scott shivered, threading his fingers through Isaac’s. “So let’s find out.”

            Scott’s heart sped up at the proposition and he leaned his head back just a little against Isaac’s shoulder. “Allison will be back soon,” he pointed out softly.

            Pressing his lips to Scott’s temple, Isaac smiled. “Maybe,” he agreed. “I think she’s giving us time. You two are a lot alike… must be why I like you.” He tugged his fingers free of Scott’s and splayed them over Scott’s hip, slipping them under his shirt with a brush of his hand. He smiled when Scott sucked in a breath at the contact. “Inside?”

            “Inside,” Scott agreed, voice a little shaky. When he turned, Isaac caught him around the waist, pulling him into a kiss he returned without hesitation, a throaty noise rumbling out of him as he started backing Isaac toward the RV. He could feel Isaac’s smile against his lips.

            They managed to get the door open, pulling it closed behind them without letting go for long. By the time they reached the kitchen, Isaac already had Scott’s shirt off, his own following with a fluid wriggle a moment later. He groaned when Scott’s hands found his ribs, nails digging in a little at the noise. Scott broke the kiss, panting slightly, pulling away just enough to press his forehead to Isaac’s.

            “Is it okay?” he breathed, nudging Isaac back a little still, walking them toward the small bedroom at the rear of the RV.

            Isaac pressed another swift, breathless kiss to his lips before nodding, humming assent. “Yes, Scott, yes, geezus yes, come on.” He slipped his fingers into Scott’s belt loops and tugged, dragging him along until the backs of Isaac’s knees hit the bed and they toppled over together.

            Scott nosed into the crook of Isaac’s neck, lips and tongue following, teeth grazing lightly. Threading fingers into his hair, Isaac pressed him closer with a small whine. Scott just chuckled, nipping gently. He wasn’t going to leave marks; he promised himself he wasn’t going to leave marks, anyway.

            “They’ll heal,” Isaac whispered, nails raking down Scott’s back, the red marks in their wake fading the moment they were left. “Come on.” With a small amount of effort he rolled them, Scott just going along with it until Isaac had him pinned, long fingers working at the button on his jeans, sliding down the zipper.

            Grabbing at his hands, Scott stopped him, holding on until Isaac met his eyes. “You can’t take this back,” he said softly. “We can’t go back once we do this.”

            Isaac swallowed, and Scott heard his heartbeat skip once. “Do you want to? Go back,” he said.

            Taking a breath, Scott shook his head. “No,” he replied, quietly, grip loosening on Isaac’s wrists, cupping around to hold his hands. “I just know that- that once I have you, I’m not going to want to let go.”

            A small, needy noise escaped Isaac, but he just shrugged and twitched a helpless shrug. “So don’t. I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to give you up.”

            “But, Allison-”

            “I don’t want to give her up either,” Isaac told him fiercely, slipping his hands out of Scott’s, pressing his palms against the jut of Scott’s hip, smiling when he twitched into the touch. “So maybe I just won’t. Maybe I’ll keep you both, and let everyone else sort out what they think.”

            “Isaac-”

            Before Scott could voice any protest, Isaac leaned down, sealing their lips together and smoothing hands up Scott’s chest. When he pulled back, it was to Scott’s hands steady on his hips, both of them a little breathless, and Isaac moved to press kisses along his jaw, down the column of his throat.

            “I’ve got you,” he murmured against Scott’s skin between touches. “And I have wanted you for too long to let you go, so just-”

            “Deal with it?” Scott huffed, arching up into the feel of Isaac’s hands and lips.

            Isaac smiled. “Yeah.”

 

* * *

 

**Day 10**

 

            Scott woke to the fuzzy amber light of morning and the scent of coffee wafting in from the kitchenette. Blinking blearily to clear his eyes, he nosed a little deeper into the warmth of the covers, hanging onto the sensation of dreaming just a few moments longer. He could hear Isaac’s heartbeat beside him, steady and heavy and comforting. He had desperately missed sleeping near him when he’d disappeared to Derek’s.

            Reaching over, he carded his fingers through Isaac’s soft curls, enjoying the slight catch, the warmth of his scalp, the way he leaned into the touch as he dragged himself from the depths of sleep. When he cracked open sleep-hazed blue eyes, Scott smiled.     “Good morning,” he murmured, throat sticking on the words.

            Isaac hummed and leaned forward enough to press a kiss to Scott’s forehead before struggling out from under the covers in order to sit. His hair stuck up at odd angles but he didn’t bother trying to fix it as he looked down at Scott, half curled around him. A smile crept onto his face. “Are you okay?”

            “Werewolf healing,” Scott mumbled, closing his eyes again. “Not even sore.” He wasn’t sure if he regretted it or not.

            Rolling his eyes, Isaac rubbed his face. “That’s not what I meant,” he said. “Though that’s good too. I smell coffee.”

            “Allison’s up,” Scott told him. “She’s been up for a bit, I think.”

            With a squinty look at the door, Isaac shook his head. “I didn’t hear her come in last night.”

            Scott knew what he was asking, even though he didn’t say it. They were both wondering if she had seen them, if she knew, if she was going to be okay with their evening. She’d left them to it, of course, but there was a difference between being all right with something in theory and being all right with it in reality. He didn’t have time to answer, however, because the moment he opened his mouth there was a knock on the thin door.

            “I know you two are up,” Allison informed them. “I made coffee and there’s toast and jam. We’ve got a long drive to Chicago, so you’d better get your cute asses out here soon.”

            They traded looks, and then Scott spoke up. “We’ll be out in a few minutes.”

            After listening to her walk away, Isaac slithered from the bed, all pale skin and smooth lines. Scott stayed put, eyes tracking every motion as Isaac collected enough clothing to be decent and then turned back to him. “I’m pretty sure she’s holding your shirt captive.”

            Scott gave a little shrug, stretching languidly before rolling out of the bed as well. He managed to locate his jeans and briefs but Isaac was correct; they’d left his shirt at the front of the RV. “It’s nothing she hasn’t seen before,” he said. “And coffee smells way too good right now to care.”

            Isaac watched him skirt the edge of the bed, staying put when he opened the door and disappeared through it. Raising his nose a little, he breathed in the scent of the room; it smelled almost overwhelmingly of the two of them, though it was laced with the softer scent of Allison. It was good, felt good, felt like something he shouldn’t have to _give up_.

It was home and family and friends and _pack_ , and he _wanted_ it, wanted all of it.

            Glancing over the room one more time, he headed for the sound of Allison and Scott’s muted voices, promising himself that they were going to work this out.

 

* * *

 

            “Let’s just take a day,” Isaac said, watching Scott unhook the RV from the spigot.         When Scott looked over, Isaac shrugged. “It’s quiet here. The weather is nice. We’ve been _going_ this entire time. Can we just… sit still for a day? Hang out?”

            Scott looked down to the hose in his hands, thinking, and then slowly he reached out and began to attach it back to the spigot. “That sounds like a good idea, actually.”

            “Allison won’t like it,” Isaac warned. “She wanted to hit Chicago today.”

            “We’ll get there,” Scott told him, tightening the hose. It creaked a little and Isaac winced; werewolf strength really was a curse sometimes.

            “We only have a few days before we’re supposed to be home,” Isaac pointed out.

            “I’ll call Doc and see if I can stay out an extra day or two if we need it,” Scott said, looking up at him. “You sure you want to stay?”

            “I just don’t want you to get in trouble,” Isaac told him, rolling his eyes.

            Scott smiled. "Since when?"

 

* * *

 

            “We’ve been walking for like an hour,” Allison groaned, weaving over and bumping into Scott’s solid form.

            “It’s been half that, and the guy at the desk said it was only a couple miles down the road,” Scott told her, laughing. “I think after our little desert hike last week, we can handle a few miles through the shaded woods.”

            “I can smell it, if that’s any consolation,” Isaac commented, nose in the air. “The gasoline anyway.”

            “It’s not,” Allison said, but she straightened up anyway, stretching her arms out to the sides and tipping her head back to watch the trees above them. “It must suck.”

            Both boys looked over to her. “What?” Scott asked.

            She shrugged. “Being able to smell everything,” she said. “Stuff you’re not even around.”

            “You get used to it,” Isaac told her. “You tune out scents you don’t need, like the people you know, nature scents, car scents.”

            “Sounds, too,” Scott said, motioning toward his ear with one hand. “I thought I was going crazy when I turned. I could hear _everything_.”

            “But you both got used to it,” she concluded. They didn’t talk about _werewolves_ like this, normally. Scott always seemed so uncomfortable about it, like if they just didn’t mention it he could live a normal life.

            “Not much of a choice,” Scott said. “It’s not like we can just _turn back_.”

            He said it with such distaste that Allison looked over, surprised. Of course she knew that Scott didn’t want to be a wolf, had never wanted to be a wolf, but she had thought he was past blatant disgust with the idea, especially since becoming an alpha. “You wish you could?”

            Sighing, he made a very noncommittal gesture with most of his body. “It would be easier. Everything would be easier.”

            “It would be normal,” Isaac interrupted. “But it wouldn’t be easier.”

            “It would be safer,” Scott said hotly. “Our friends might be alive.”

            “But they wouldn’t be our friends,” Isaac pointed out, gently. “If you hadn’t been bitten, you wouldn’t have met Allison. If Derek hadn’t found me, I wouldn’t have met you, or Erica or Boyd. Not like this, anyway. I’d be living under my dad’s thumb still, clawing up the insides of a freezer any time he felt I wasn’t good enough.”

            Scott apparently didn’t have anything to say to that, because he kept his mouth shut. Allison hesitated long enough to get behind them and slip over to his side, to nudge gently against his shoulder with hers.

            “I’m glad you’re here,” she said softly. “As whatever it took to get you here, I’m glad you’re here, Isaac.”

            He smiled weakly at her, and then motioned to where the road curved ahead of them. “I think it’s just up there. I can smell the bakery now.”

            Returning the smile, Allison glanced at Scott, and then changed her pace, leaving the two of them space as she moved briskly toward the corner store. Isaac kept his eyes on the ground, waiting for Scott to sort himself out, to say something, anything.

            “I’m glad, too,” Scott said at last. “She’s right. I don’t have to like the circumstances to like the result. If it took us becoming werewolves to get here, right here like this, then I wouldn’t change it.”

            “You don’t like being a wolf?” Isaac asked. He didn’t enjoy every aspect of it, but it was better than the human he’d once been. He was stronger, faster, more capable of defending himself. The world around him was so much more _alive_. It was difficult to fathom how anyone could hate it.

            “I do,” Scott admitted, ambling a little closer as they walked. “I’ve come to terms with it. It’s not _being_ a werewolf that sucks.”

            “It’s everything that happens because of it,” Isaac concluded. They all knew the feeling.

            “Yeah,” Scott confirmed. “Exactly. People get dragged into this, and they get hurt.”

            “I didn’t get dragged,” Isaac said, looking over finally. “I chose it. I’d choose it a million times if it meant ending up here.”

            “Walking miles down a dirt road in midsummer for an ice cream cone?” Scott teased.

            “Yeah,” Isaac countered, not willing to let him change the subject. “Walking miles down a dirt road in midsummer for an ice cream cone with you and Allison.”

            “Is it worth everything else?” Scott asked. He didn’t sound accusatory, just curious. Isaac wondered how often Scott blamed himself for everything, and how much Scott was willing to deny himself as penance.

            “You don’t have to pay for the bad things that happened by giving up the good things,” Isaac told him, reaching over to thread his fingers through Scott’s. Immediately Scott’s grip tightened on his, like he’d been waiting for it. “You’re allowed to be happy, Scott, even when the rest of the world is sad.”

            “It doesn’t feel that way,” Scott said, dropping his gaze and following their path up to where Allison walked ahead of them, oblivious to the conversation. The corner of the little market was just visible through the trees.

            “It never does,” Isaac said.

 

* * *

 

            The walk back from the corner store seemed shorter than the walk there, their hand-scooped ice cream melting down their fingers as they walked and talked. Isaac told them stories about ice cream stands his brother used to stop at while they traveled. They’d had a rule, when they were on the road, and it was that they couldn’t stop at chain restaurants. No Dairy Queens or McDonalds along the way, only family-run businesses. It was a little more expensive usually, but Camden was paid well and there wasn’t much to spend his money on while he was away.

            Allison nudged a little closer to him and admitted that it was her mom that had the sweet tooth in the family. She baked cookies and drove out for ice cream on the weekends with Allison in tow. It wasn’t without price, of course, but usually recitation of information Allison learned in school that week was enough.

            The cones were long gone by the time they returned to the park, waived through by security at the entrance when they flashed the ticket they’d been given. When they were a safe distance inside the park, Allison wondered how much security a 90-year-old woman was supposed to provide, and both Scott and Isaac provided that she had a shotgun and a can of MACE. Isaac tapped his nose when she looked at them.

            When they reached the RV, Isaac grabbed a towel and disappeared for the showers. Allison left Scott to his own devices, going to fetch firewood for the evening from the front desk. For a few minutes Scott puttered around the outside of the RV before deciding that he was going to take a walk around the grounds by himself. It would give Allison a little time alone when she returned and give him some space to think.

            It was nice, both the campground and the day. Overhead the sky had just enough clouds so it wasn’t all clear blue, the sun high and occasionally hiding. A cool breeze blew in off the water and when he swung around by the edge of it he could see several people fishing on the other side. The thought that they should have brought fishing gear was chased by the thought that none of them probably _had_ fishing gear.

            He passed by several campers with kids running around in bathing suits to beat the heat; one of them even had a small kiddie pool set up, but their young golden retriever was defending it from the kids with a tongue-lolling smile and playful barks. Scott smiled. He still had a few good memories of his dad, and camping with him when he was small was one of them.

            Isaac’s voice drifted to him on the breeze and he realised he had nearly reached the RV again. He took a deep, steadying breath. It had been an intense week. Perhaps not the same sort of intense to which their lives had become accustomed, but intense none-the-less. Draining, if anything, but in a good way. He finally felt like they were started to sink their claws into their problems, and it felt good. He’d expected it to feel messy, but it only felt clean.

            Every scab they picked, every scar they touched.

            Every part of themselves, ugly and beautiful, that was laid bare and then accepted.

            It felt _good._

            He reached the RV and paused outside the door to listen to Isaac and Allison shuffling around inside. Knocking once just to alert Allison - he figured Isaac had heard him coming - he cracked the door and peeked in. Allison smiled at him, her arms wrapped around the cloth laundry bag she’d brought.

            “There’s laundry up front,” she explained. “I figured we could do a couple of loads. You want to go?”

            “Sure,” he said, stepping aside to let her through.

            She beamed at him and slid past, heading for the entrance of the park without looking back. Isaac appeared a moment later, his own bag slung over his shoulder. “You want me to wait?”

            “No, go on,” Scott told him, hopping up the steps. “I’ll catch up.”

 

* * *

  
 

            Allison kicked her heels gently against the dryer from where she sat atop it, eyes roaming the neutral colors of the washroom as she idly twisted the Rubik’s cube Isaac had brought along. Scott sat in one of the hard, plastic chairs, dozing lightly, and Isaac lay sprawled out at her feet along the base of the dryer.

            “They say you can calm a baby by putting it on a washing machine,” Isaac mumbled. He had one arm thrown over his eyes, blocking out the bright lights of the room.

            Scrunching her face, she peered over the edge at him, leaning on her hands to stay balanced. “What?”

            “It’s like a heartbeat,” he said, grasping for the right words to explain the article he’d read about it. “When it gets to, uh… to the one stage. Where it starts going lub-lub, lub-lub.”

            She stared at him for a moment, considering the idea. “I guess. I wonder if our parents ever had to do that for us.” She had a difficult time imagining either of her parents standing over a running washing machine while she cried on top of it.

            “My dad told me Mom did it for my brother,” Isaac said softly. “I guess he was really colicky.”

            “Not you?” she asked, tipping her head. He peeked out from under his arm.

            “Guess I was a good kid.” He smiled, a little ruefully.

            She smiled back. “You still are.” Beneath her, the dryer buzzed.

 

* * *

 

            “I don’t think we’re supposed to be _on top_ of the RV,” Isaac said, lobbing the bedding he’d hauled outside onto the roof. Scott caught it and dragged it the rest of the way up, then gave him a hand up as well. “Someone’s going to yell at us.”

            “No one’s going to yell at us,” Scott assured him. “Besides, it’s only for a bit. Look, isn’t the view better from up here?”

            Isaac craned his head around, taking in the view. A hundred yards from them was the fishing pond, surrounded by campers and trees. Tents, campers, and RVs littered the grounds, surrounded by people. Some sat, some stood, some wandered around. There was a small group of kids on bikes taking the dirt path toward the entrance. Above all of it, the air was a little less stagnant, sounds a little more muffled.

            “Yeah,” he agreed.

            Together they moved to the set of folding chairs where Allison sat, the Rubik's’s cube in her hands. She didn’t look up at them, a little frown on her lips. Isaac and Scott traded looks, hiding smiles before she could see. They’d both practically given up on the thing.

            “Any luck?” Isaac asked, plopping down in the middle chair. Allison sighed, dropping the toy into her lap to look at him.

            “I can’t solve more than one side at a time,” she admitted.

            “I looked it up once,” Scott said, taking the last seat and stretching out. “You’re supposed to solve a cross on the top and something about pairs of colors.”

            “You’re so helpful,” Isaac said dryly. Allison snickered.

            Scott made a face at both of them. “It was a long time ago,” he told them. “Anyway the point is that you have to get it to the right stage before you can solve it.”

            Isaac and Allison both looked to the toy in her hands, thoughtful expressions on their faces. Scott just leaned his head back and closed his eyes, soaking up the sunlight. The breeze was even better on top of the RV, with nothing impeding its speed. It carried with it too many scents to sort, which turned it into an amalgamation his nose didn’t even bother trying to sort. It felt very _human_.

            The faint sound of a radio drifted to them, and Scott listened to Allison settling down into her chair before he cracked his eyes to look. She had her head tilted to one side, eyes on the next camp site over where a young girl sat curled up in a lawn chair, a book open on her lap. They had seen her parents leave for the fishing hole earlier.

            “It’s weird,” Allison said softly. “When I was young, really young, I always thought my life was pretty normal. Traveling around, never standing still.”

            “But?” Isaac asked, tipping his head to see her from where he slouched in his own chair.

            She shrugged. “We stayed in a town for a year when I was thirteen,” she said. “I learned most people stay put. I asked my parents why we don’t stay. My mom told me it was because of their jobs. My dad told me it was because if we can see the world, that we should.”

            “I like your dad,” Isaac offered.

            “Yeah,” Allison agreed, closing her eyes. “I wish they’d told me.”

            “I wonder if anyone else here knows,” Scott pondered, drawing both their attentions. “About the supernatural.” He motioned out over the park. “You know, if there’s anyone here that’s like you, anyone whose parents dragged them out here on a hunt.”

            “I hope none,” Allison said, more harshly than before. “Kids shouldn’t have to go through all that. It sucked.”

            “Would it have made a difference?” Scott asked. “If they’d told you?”

            She hesitated, eyes dropping as she considered it, brows drawn. Then she scowled, and shook her head a little. “I don’t know. Maybe,” she answered. “Maybe it would have been worse.”

            “Worse?” Isaac echoed.

            “Yeah,” she said, looking over. “I could have grown up thinking my parents were killers. I could have grown up a killer, myself. I could have become Kate.” Her gaze danced to Scott, then away. “I would have figured you out a lot sooner. We certainly wouldn’t be here if they’d told me.”

            “I wouldn’t be here,” Scott corrected softly.

            Her eyes slid closed in guilt. “You wouldn’t be anywhere,” she murmured. “Except maybe six feet under. Isaac too.”

            “I’m glad they didn’t tell you,” Isaac said quietly.

            “Me too,” Allison said, like a revelation, like she’d never thought she’d say so.

 

* * *

 

            The fire was burning down as the last of the other campers whispered their goodbyes, smiling fondly at where Isaac and Allison slept cuddled into Scott’s sides. This particular campground had benches near the fire pits, and they’d made good use of them, all three of them piling into one to eat their dinner. Scott had insisted that they eat actual campfire food, roasting hotdogs and toasting the buns on the ends of sticks.

            By the time night fell, the campground was more crowded than any they had so far seen and several other groups had offered cut wood for a chance to sit at the already made fire and keep their company. They’d been introduced to a campfire game involving passing around a stick, the details of which Scott was still hazy about, but had enjoyed none-the-less. Someone had brought in bottles of liquor after the children had been ushered off to bed, and though the three of them had all declined the drink offers, they joined in on the singing.

            In all, it was a relaxing day. Scott listened to the steady heartbeats on either side of him, smiling as he watched the tiny tongues of flame lick around the embers.

            This was what he wanted. No arguing, no questions, no doubt. Just this- Allison and Isaac warm and sleepy and content.

            He let his cheek rest on the top of Allison’s head, eyes drooping and mind drifting. He hadn’t remembered to call his mother, or Allison’s father, or Stiles; they’d been so wrapped up in the evening that none of them had thought to fetch the phones from inside the RV. A small smile twitched at Scott’s lips. There were probably 18 messages from his best friend and one from his mother. He wondered how late he should wait to call in the morning and if Stiles was already on his way out to find them.

            But he could feel the warmth of Isaac’s breath puffing against him in sleep, and the beat of Allison’s heart beneath his fingertips against her arm and all the rest seemed like a different lifetime until Allison stirred against him, lifting her head.

            “Where’d everyone go?” she mumbled sleepily, putting her head back down and curling her fingers into his shirt.

            “Back to their campers,” he told her softly, kissing the top of her head. “Like we should.”

            She hummed with content and pressed her nose to his shoulder before slithering off the bench and clambering to her feet. He watched her stretch, watched the play of her muscles and the yawn she gave, and he smiled. A gentle nudge roused Isaac, who made a grouchy noise and pulled away from him, only to settle back against him once the movement stopped.

            “Isaac,” Scott cajoled, rubbing his cheek over the top of Isaac’s head. “Come on, we don’t want to sleep outside.”

            “You don’t,” Isaac shot back, but he sat up again and stretched anyway. “I think I’m going to stay out a little longer. Maybe toast another marshmallow.”

            Though he could hear Isaac’s steady, level heartbeat, Scott knew that wasn’t the entire truth. That was how the pack got by these days if they wanted to hide something; a half-truth didn’t raise the heartbeat the same way. Stiles had gotten exceptionally good at it- Lydia even more so. He wasn’t interested in making Isaac tell him what exactly he was thinking of doing, or why he wasn’t going to come inside with them, so he just turned to scoop Allison into his arms.

            “Come inside before the dew,” Scott told Isaac as Allison shifted against him, murmuring his name. “Good night.”

            “Night,” Isaac said, curling back onto the bench and turning his face to the clear night sky.

            Scott managed to get the door to the RV opened, twisting through it to protect Allison from bumping into anything along the way. Inside it was warmer, enough that he didn’t need to pull back the covers when he set Allison down on the edge of the bed. When he went to stand, she tightened her grip around his neck, dragging him with her.

            “Allison,” he chided, though gently. He didn’t exactly mind.

            “Don’t go,” she pleaded, giving another tug. If he hadn’t been a werewolf he might have overbalanced. As it was, he held firm for a moment longer. “Please. I hate sleeping alone.”

            Sighing, Scott slid his hands down, digging into the covers a little until he could get leverage enough to lift her up, scoot her back on the bed. She wriggled backward, not letting go as he crawled onto the thin comforter beside her. As soon as he was lying down, she snuggled under his chin, one arm to her chest the other snaking over his side to keep him there.

            “I like this,” she murmured sleepily as he tucked her a little closer, laying a kiss to the top of her hair before closing his eyes. “I don’t want it to go away.”

            “I know,” he said quietly. None of them wanted _this_ to go away.

            “I don’t want Isaac to go away,” she admitted. He could feel her heart thrumming. “You don’t either.”

            “I don’t either,” he agreed.

            “Okay,” she said, body going lax against him. It sounded so much like a declaration that Scott couldn’t help but smile.

            “Okay,” he agreed, letting himself relax as well.

 

* * *

 

**Day 11**

 

            Scott pushed the potatoes around the small pan, a smile at the edge of his lips, skin still humming pleasantly with content. The entire RV smelled heavenly, like frying bacon and potatoes, the soft scent of warm bread from the toaster mingling deliciously. The kitchen was a lot smaller than Scott was used to using, but it working well enough. He’d pulled out the couple of small pans from beneath the sink and started on breakfast before either of the others were awake.

            It hadn’t taken much noise on his part to wake Isaac, who lay sprawled out on the couch that ran lengthwise behind the driver’s seat. He hadn’t spoken for a bit, content to yawn and watch Scott skinning and dicing the last of the potatoes they’d bought in St. Louis the first day. It wasn’t until they had begun to sizzle in the small skillet that Isaac had stretched, long and languid, and greeted him.

            “Eggs?” Isaac asked, lifting his nose. His smile turned into a grin.

            “Not a word,” Scott told him, giving him a scowl that held no heat. He knew Isaac could smell Allison on him, smell the sweat on his skin, his and hers, and still that impossible grin. “Or you don’t get breakfast,” he warned when Isaac opened his mouth.

            At that, Isaac started laughing. After a bit, he’d gotten up to get in Scott’s way just long enough for Scott to kick him out of the kitchen again. Settling back on the couch, he’d picked up his phone and started quoting Chicago attractions until Scott began to tune him out, listening instead to the slow beat of Allison’s heart, to her steady breathing.

            It was as he was scooping potatoes onto plates that he heard her stir and Isaac quieted. A moment later Allison emerged from the bedroom, running one hand through her tousled hair. Her soft t-shirt was rumpled, hanging low over her pajama pants. “What time is it?” she asked, blinking sleep from her eyes.

            “About ten,” Isaac answered. “Good morning.”

            “It was,” Allison said, making a little face at him. “How was yours?”

            “Not half as… enthusiastic?” He smiled. “Scott got territorial over the kitchen.”

            Her eyebrows rose and she looked to Scott even as she spoke to Isaac. “Oh so there _is_ something he’ll fight for?”

            “You’re both terrible,” Scott informed them as he dished out bacon and scrambled eggs. “And I don’t know why I like either of you.”

            “Isaac looks good in a scarf?” Allison said at the same time as Isaac quipped: “She looks good with a bow?” Both of them laughed until Scott put plates in their hands and brandished silverware at them.

            “Just eat your food,” he ordered them, though they could both hear the grin threatening to break out. When he turned to pick up his own plate, he paused. “I’m glad you’re getting along,” he said softly.

            “We’ve gotten along for a while,” Allison replied, taking a seat at the rickety fold-down table. “That was sort of the problem, wasn’t it?”

            “Was?” Isaac asked, slipping off the couch to join them.

            She watched him set his plate down and then turn to get drinks for everyone. “Yeah, _was_. It’s not now, right? I mean, we can do this right?”

            “Do what?” Scott asked cautiously, accepting a glass of orange juice from Isaac.

            Shifting uncomfortably, Allison dropped her gaze for a moment and then picked up her fork. “You know, like… us. Like all of us.”

            Everyone fell silent, Isaac stilling at the counter, quart of orange juice in hand but motionless. Scott looked between the two of them because this was what he had wanted, what he had dared hope would be possible for them, and he hadn’t had to be the one to bring it up. He could hear both their hearts hammering, and wondered if they had discussed it without him.

            “Together?” Isaac asked softly.

            “We could do it,” Allison said, not looking up from her plate, shoving around some of the scrambled eggs with the tines of her fork.

            “We could,” Scott agreed. “It would be… I would like that.”

            “We still have a few days,” Isaac said, lifting the juice and pouring the last glass. “We could, you know, try it? See if… if it works. If we like it.”

            “I can’t imagine not liking it,” Scott breathed, stabbing a piece of egg and looking to where Isaac had turned with the two glasses.

            At that, Allison smiled, her knuckles rolling on the table as she turned her hand over to offer it to him. Isaac set a glass down for her as he sat, placing his own glass beside his plate before putting his hand over Scott’s in hers.

            Though none of them were willing to admit it, they all felt the tension finally begin to ease.

 

* * *

 

            “You’re both ridiculous,” Scott sighed, watching from the corner of his eye as Isaac and Allison both pretended to be pulling on invisible cords above their heads in an attempt to get the semi beside them to honk its horn at them.

            The truck driver obliged, blaring the horn, and the two burst into cheers, waving their thanks.

 

* * *

 

            Allison sat in the passenger seat, her feet propped on Scott’s thigh as he drove. Behind them, Isaac was on the couch scrolling his phone for attractions and keeping track of the GPS. She smiled, turning back to the page of her book. Another half a page passed before Scott glanced over and shook his head.

            “I don’t think we need a handbook,” he said.

            She didn’t take her nose from the book. “Are you an expert?”

            “No one’s an _expert_ on threesomes, Allison,” he told her.

            Flipping the book up so he could see the cover, she raised her brows and tried to say completely seriously: “Did you write a handbook?”

            “Writing a handbook doesn’t make you an expert,” Isaac quipped without taking his eyes from the phone.

            “It does if you have the experience and no one else writes a book,” she said. “Actually I’m pretty sure it makes you a leading expert.”

            “Are there leading experts in-”

            “Stiles made notes for us,” Allison said before Isaac could finish his thought, turning the book so they could both see.

            For a moment they all fell silent, looking at the highlights and red underlines, the tiny notes scrawled in the short margins of the little beige book. Scott shook his head, scoffing. “He figured it out before us.”

            “Doesn’t he usually?” Allison asked, turning the pages back to herself.

            “We’ll have to be sure to thank him with too much information,” Isaac said, eyes dropping back to his phone. “I vote we go to the Shedd Aquarium.”

            “Seconded,” Allison agreed, then grinned. “On both accounts.”

            Scott just sighed.

 

* * *

 

            The city rose before them, all tall grey skyscrapers and modern architecture. To the east lay open water and they managed to determine that they were not so lost that it was the ocean, just one of the Great Lakes. Isaac pulled out the atlas and reported that it was Lake Michigan in case they cared.

            "Can you go swimming in it?" Allison asked, peeking at the expanse of water as they drove.

            Isaac picked his head up, looking over. "Would you want to?"

            She considered it for a moment. "It's freshwater, right?"

            "Well it's not _saltwater_ ," Scott said. "I don't know if you can count it as _fresh_ water..."

            Her nose crinkled. "Oh. Well then I suppose it doesn't matter what it's called."

            Giving her one raised brow, Isaac turned his attention back to the atlas. "We should probably find someplace to park the RV and take a bus or cab into town."

            "There's a train," Allison offered. When both glanced her way, she shrugged. "I looked it up this morning. I also picked out a few hotels we can take a look at."

            "Hotels?" both boys echoed.

            "Yes, _hotels_ ," she told them, frowning a little. "We're not staying in the RV while we're in Chicago. I want a real shower if we're going into civilization."

            Neither of them could argue with that.

 

* * *

 

            Scott dropped his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed, taking in the room. It was well kept, the AC unit along the floor, a shelving unit, a nice TV. He smiled without turning back to the others. “A king bed, Allison?” he asked. “Not very subtle.”

            “Yes, because I’m known for being subtle,” Allison said, dropping her own bag on the little couch. “It’s less work than pushing the beds together.”

            “Fair enough,” Scott said, kicking off his shoes and falling backward onto the bed. He groaned, eyes closing. “I will defer to your judgment forever. Getting a hotel room was absolutely the right choice.”

            She chuckled, scooting around Isaac to walk over, resting her knees between his on the end of the bed. “That good?” she asked, raising her eyebrows when he cracked his eyes open to look at her.

            “Better,” he assured her before rocking up, grabbing her hips, and dragging her onto the bed with him.

            Laughing, she rolled off of him, stretching languidly on the plush hotel comforter, sinking into the mattress a positively sinful little moan. “Oh, a real bed…”

            With a grin, Isaac moved to lay belly-down along Scott’s other side, pillowing his head on his arms. “Not bad,” he said, laughing when Scott jabbed him in the side with one finger. “Okay, okay, it’s excellent and we should never leave.”

            “Better,” Allison said. “I’d be okay staying here an extra night, just saying.”

            “Don’t like the RV bed?” Isaac teased softly, sitting up a little so he could see her over Scott.

            Wisely, she just smiled at him sweetly and closed her eyes. “We should go get food.”

            “Not hungry,” Scott mumbled, eyes already drifting closed as he savored the feel of a good bed.

            The warmth of a nose pressed to the shell of his ear dragged him back to consciousness. “Not for anything?” Isaac breathed warm against his ear.

            “Not for food,” Scott said.

            Allison’s fingers snuck under the hem of his shirt, smoothing up his belly to rest between his ribs. “For something else?”

            Scott hummed when Isaac nipped gently. “Completely incorrigible,” he accused them.

            Both of them laughed, and then Allison sat up, throwing a leg over his hips and planting her hands on either side of his head. Isaac shifted fluidly to accommodate, and then Allison leaned down, kissing Scott softly. When she pulled back, it was only far enough to shift her weight, to drag her hand down Isaac’s arm, to his wrist, found his hand and moved him until he was touching her, too.

            “You sure you want to skip food?” Isaac murmured, following her silent demand by smoothing his palm down her side, eyes tracking the motion like he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed.

            “I think it can wait,” she said, smiling from him to Scott. Then she slowly dropped her weight, rolled her hips against his, drawing a groan of want from him. “Don’t you think?”

 

* * *

 

**Day 12**

 

            Golden morning sun suffused the room, a soft glow through the shroud of the thin, white curtain. Scott cracked one eye enough to judge that it was, indeed, morning, before closing it again and burrowing back under the covers. He could feel the warm, safe weight of Isaac draped halfway over him, fingertips brushing over Allison snuggled tight to his other side, and he smiled.

            “Morning,” Isaac mumbled into his skin.

            His chuckle was rough with sleep. “Morning.”

            “Time’sit?” Allison slurred, stirring a little at their voices.

            “Morning,” Isaac assured her unhelpfully, then gave a breathy chuckle at his own joke. When she pinched the skin of the hand touching her for his effort, he snatched it back and sat up enough to see the alarm clock. “It’s _seven,_ your highness,” he groaned, flopping back down with his face buried in the pillow. “Which is ten times too early for when we fell asleep.”

            “Ten times, huh?” Scott teased, shoving gently at Isaac until he rolled over onto his back and looked at Scott like this was all _his_ fault. “They only serve breakfast until nine.”

            “Finally hungry for food?” Isaac quipped, sticking out his tongue a little.

            Allison scooted closer, resting her chin on the bare skin of Scott’s side so she could see Isaac. “There’s hash browns.” When he looked back, she raised her eyebrows in an invitation. “Cubed ones. Seasoned cubed hash browns.”

            Isaac’s eyes rolled back into his head and he gave a little moan of want. “I love it when you talk dirty.”

            All of them froze at that, the weight of the situation bearing down on them at the reminder of what was happening, what they had agreed to try. Scott felt the hair on his arms rise at the unnatural silence that descended. Keeping his voice low, he said: “Are we really going to do this?”

            “I think we’re already doing this,” Allison replied softly, glancing sidelong at him and then back to Isaac. “Even if it doesn’t work out, we have to try, right?”

            “I think so,” Isaac agreed, holding out his hand, palm up, to Scott.

            Hesitating a second, Scott reached over and threaded his fingers into Isaac’s. “It’s just… it’s a little crazy.” He had wanted this, had wanted this more than anything, but now that he had it, that Isaac and Allison were getting along and the solution seemed so _easy_ , he felt uncertain. Since he had been bitten, _nothing_ had been this easy. There was always something horrible waiting around the corner from anything that seemed to be good.

            “You’re a _werewolf_ , Scott,” Allison said, drawing his attention back to her. “Isaac is a werewolf. I’m a _hunter of werewolves_. My best friend is a banshee. Your best friend is becoming a druid. Our whole lives are a ‘little crazy,’ don’t you think?” She laid her hand over theirs. “This? This could be a little _good_.”

            “More than a little,” Isaac said.

            "So we're just- just going to go with it? All three of us, together?" Scott asked, forcing himself to calm down when he felt Isaac's palm smooth over his forearm soothingly.

            "Do you want to stop?" Allison asked softly, sitting up. Their eyes met, and Scott swallowed, jaw working like he wanted to say something and just didn't have the words.            Isaac was no better, attention laser-focused on where his hand met Scott's skin. "I don't."

            It was Isaac who moved first, withdrawing his hand. Scott tensed but Isaac only reached out, offering his fingers to Allison, who curled hers around his and smiled.             "Okay," he said. "I don't want to stop either."

            With a tired sigh, Scott reached out, covering their joined hands with both of his. "I'm not saying I want to stop, I'm just... I'm trying to see down the road, you know?"

            At that, Allison laughed. "If I have to learn not to make plans too far ahead for road trips, you get to learn not to make plans too far ahead on this road. Let's just take it one day at a time."

            "It's a little different, don't you think?" Scott asked.

            "Why?" Isaac asked, tipping his head. "I think it sounds good to take it a little at a time."

            "Where do you see it going?" Scott asked, brow furrowing. "All three of us? It's not like we can just- get threesome married and ride off into the sunset."

            "I really think marriage is the least of our concerns, Scott," Isaac argued. "So what if we can't? It's not like marriage kept my parents together. It didn't help yours either."

            A small noise escaped Allison, just loud enough for werewolf hearing, and both boys turned to her. Isaac realized what he'd said a moment too late, skin flushing as he rushed to correct himself. "That's not- I mean, I'm sure it works for some people, we just don't have to-"

            "It's okay," Allison said softly, giving his hand a squeeze. Despite everything that had happened since she moved to Beacon Hills, she was sure her parents had loved one another. She was sure their marriage had been good, that neither of her parents would have given it up if they'd thought they had a choice. "I don't really- Scott, we don't have to get _married_ ever, okay? Don't let that hang you up here. It's not important."

            "It's important," Isaac said firmly, already wriggling out of her grasp and reaching for his phone. "If it means something to you, then it's important."

 

* * *

 

            When the buzzing started, Derek tried to muster the strength of will to care. At all. He tipped his head enough to look at the phone where it sat on the nightstand, screen lighting up. It wasn't just one text message but it wasn't a phone call, which meant someone was probably in trouble, but not serious trouble. Lethargy had claws sunk deep in him. The only reason he managed to roll over and snatch up the phone was the thought that if he didn't, it would never stop.

            He read the first text, brows furrowing, and Stiles stuck his head out of the bathroom. "Hoofick?" he asked around his toothbrush. Derek rolled his eyes without answering and waited, listening to the water run as Stiles finished and hurried out.      "You're wearing your _I regret my life decisions_ face, who was it?"

            Derek sighed, scooting to the side of the bed as Stiles crossed the space between them. "Isaac," he said, holding out the phone so Stiles could see the screen.

Stiles didn't take the phone - he had learned not to _take_ things from Derek in the morning - but he leaned forward enough to read the text.

_Can werewolves get werewolf-married?_

            Snorting, Stiles tried to contain his laughter. It was a poor attempt at best, and he tapped the screen to go to the next message.

_Does it have to be just two people?_

            "It sounds like it's going well," Stiles concluded, straightening.

            Another text buzzed through before Stiles could look away.

_This is important, Derek._

            Derek gave him a look that read _do I really have to deal with this right now_ , at which point Stiles just burst into laughter. "You're on your own, big guy. You adopted them!"

            "They're your friends too!" Derek called out after him as he disappeared for the kitchen.

            When he received no answer, Derek scowled down at his phone and began to type.

 

* * *

 

            Isaac's phone beeped at him and he turned the response to the others.

_Yes. And no._

            "Well he's as helpful as ever," Allison muttered. "Look, let's just... can we just drop it until we get back home?"

            "Okay," both boys said together. "Potatoes?" Isaac asked hopefully.

            "Potatoes," Allison agreed. "And bacon and fruit and eggs and maybe waffles, I don't know."

            "Can we stay here forever?" Scott groaned, eyes closing as he flopped back against the pillows.

            "We could stay and extra night," Isaac suggested, looking to Allison for confirmation. She shrugged. "I mean, we still have a week before we have to be home. It's only a couple days of straight driving to get back."

            "I like the bed," Allison said, slithering off of it and heading for her overnight bag. Both boys watched her walk, golden light of morning soft on her bare skin. "And there's plenty to do in the city. I don't mind staying."

            "Okay then," Scott said. "Breakfast, then exploring, then _exploring_ ," he continued, raising his eyebrows a little and smiling when the others rolled their eyes. "Then homeward bound tomorrow."

            He followed Allison's lead, rolling out of bed and heading for his own bag for a change of clothes. After a moment of watching, Isaac groaned and joined them.

 

* * *

  
 

            Breakfast had been everything Isaac was hoping for, with seasoned hash browns and fluffy scrambled eggs and bacon cooked to just the soft side of crispy. Scott and Allison made waffles in the industrial looking waffle iron and covered them in strawberries and whipped cream. One of them grabbed a third plate, adding fresh fruit and bacon and sausage links to it. When all three of them had settled at a table, it was very nearly a feast.

            Scott cut a quarter of his waffle away from the rest at the same time as Allison, and both of them traded with Isaac for bites of eggs and hash browns. In return he snuck pieces of their fruit until their separate breakfasts were more an amalgamation than anything individual. No one was ready to complain about the soft, warm feeling suffusing the meal.

            As they found out, the Shedd Aquarium was only a few blocks from where they had stayed, and they ended up just walking instead of hopping one of the ever-present busses or taking a cab from the long line that waited outside the hotel. Clouds moved sluggishly above them, painting the sky and overcast grey.

            "At least we'll be inside," Allison commented along the way, eyes tracking up to the cloud cover. Far in the distance thunder rumbled.

            The interior of the Aquarium was not as packed as it could have been, likely due to it being early in the day in the middle of the week. All of the walls in the entryway looked to be carved stone depicting various underwater creatures and even before they had gotten past the circular ticket counter they could see a huge exhibit and the hallways leading away from it.

            "I can hear the dolphins," Isaac said softly. "Even here, I can hear them." He tipped his head slightly, eyes sliding closed, a soft smile on his lips.

            Allison smiled and glanced over to Scott, who had his eyes closed as well. "We can visit them first," she suggested.

            "We should," Isaac said. "I think there's a baby. Can you hear the higher pitch?"

            "Yeah," Scott agreed. "I bet everything sounds strange to them. I can't imagine being able to echo-locate and being locked up someplace with so much constant noise."

When he looked over, both Allison and Isaac were staring at him. "Thank you for that depressing thought," Allison quipped. Isaac covered his laugh with a half-hearted cough.         "Come on, we're up."

            They paid for their tickets and escaped the lines, heading for the darkened exhibit hallways. Allison passed them pamphlets with maps on them and they all missed the first few tanks worth of animals as they walked and tried to decide where to go first. Isaac stopped them when he realized they were halfway through the first hall of Amazon life and they hadn't seen anything.

            "I want to see the sharks," Allison said, pointing to the Wild Reef exhibit. "If that's okay?"

            "Sure," Scott said, both boys shrugging as they looked around for signs or directions. Isaac found them first and they trekked to the basement, following the colorful signs pointing them toward the reef.

            The hallway opened up when they arrived, the bowed front of the enclosure wrapping around most of the big room. In the water swirled _life_. Fish and rays and eels and - most prominently - sharks swimming in long, lazy circles through the water.

            "Wow," Allison breathed, moving closer to the glass. "You know, I've never seen a shark before? Not a big one anyway."

            "They're not that big," Isaac said, leaning on the railing, eyes tracking the glide of the closest one. "Not like Jaws or anything."

            "Jaws wasn't real," Scott said.

            "I know," Isaac responded, rolling his eyes and smiling. "But I mean none of these are great whites or anything."

            "They're big enough for me," Allison said. "Hey, look at that one!"

            The boys turned back to the tank, following the line of her finger to one of the sharks. Its nose extended long past the rest of its face, with spikes that made it look more like a chainsaw than a natural protrusion. "What is it?" Scott asked, eyes wide.

            "Looks like... a sawfish," Isaac said, pointing to the display explanation. "Oh, it's not actually a shark."

            "Hm." Allison watched it for a moment, moving with the others. "It's getting along with them, though. I wonder which one is more dangerous..."

            "More dangerous?" Scott asked, glancing over to her and then back as the sawfish glided past them, its long, toothy snout clearing the way. "I think they're all pretty dangerous."

            "I mean, to each other," she clarified. "Like, do they fight? What happens when they add a new shark? Does it have to go through a tank hazing?"

            "I think they adapt," Isaac said quietly. "The ocean is a pretty big place. It's probably in their nature."

            Allison looked askew at him for a moment, and then back to the tank. "Do you think they'll adapt to us?" she asked softly. "Back home, I mean."

            "I think so," Scott said, his grin leaking into his voice. "We haven't changed, they haven't changed. Honestly I think they sent us away hoping we'd figure out what they knew."

            "Stiles did send that book along," Isaac pointed out. "And Lydia would kill us for thinking she's any less observant. Besides our parents, does anyone else even matter?"

            "No," Allison said. When she looked over to them, both boys were smiling. The edges of her lips twitched up and she held out her hand to Isaac, who slid his fingers in and around hers. "I guess you're right."

            Scott laughed, moving away from the rail and walking around to stand on Allison's other side, leaning into her a little. "After all the werewolves and kanimas and darachs and kitsunes we've dealt with, I think we'll be the least surprising new fish in the tank."

            Relaxing, she put her head on his shoulder, drawing Isaac in a little closer. They let the conversation drop in favor of watching the choppy surface water shimmer down on all the denizens of the reef.

 

* * *

 

**Day 13**

 

            Isaac let the water sluice over him, nothing but the sound of it pounding against tile and tub and skin echoing in his ears. It was good, better than good, scalding against his skin, clean and fresh and relaxing. They had showered last night after returning from the life sciences museums, but more than one person in the small hotel stall had made for not very long or clean showers for any of them. The second round of showers had taken just long enough to rinse before they'd crawled under the covers and curled up together in a sprawl of warm limbs.

            Now, morning light was dawning and Isaac had slipped away to luxuriate until the others woke. Steam filled the bathroom floor to ceiling and his hair laid plastered to

his head. It was the best shower he'd had in ages and it was only with the utmost reluctance that he shut it off as it began to cool.

            Snagging a towel from the rack, the only clean one left, he opened the bathroom door. Steam roiled out around him as he scrubbed at his hair with one hand, fluffing it dry, a faint smile on his lips.

            When he turned the corner to the main room, he froze.

            On the bed Scott lay sprawled on his back, Allison pinning his wrists above his head, kissing him soundly. She sat straddling him, but they hesitated when they realized Isaac had returned. Scott looked over just as Allison leaned down, resting her head on his sternum.

            Isaac swallowed, standing completely still, listening to their heartbeats thump too loudly in the sudden silence.

            After a deep breath in and out, Isaac smiled and rubbed at the other side of his head for a moment before he began to cross the room. "Don't stop on my account," he said softly.

            "Sorry," Allison mumbled guiltily, rolling off of Scott as Isaac took a seat on the edge of the bed.

            "For what?" Isaac asked, giving a little shrug.

            "We shouldn't have- I mean, we-" Scott began, trying to articulate exactly what had run through all of their minds a moment ago. If they were going to make all three of them work, it would have to be _all three of them_.

            Isaac took another deep breath, nodding slowly. "We can't... do this." Allison made a small noise of distress, but Isaac held up a hand. "I mean, we can do _this_ ," Isaac told her, motioning between all of them. "But not- we can't-" He stopped, collecting his thoughts. "All of us is made up of some of us. If we're going to work, we have to be able to be the three of us but we have to be able to be the two of you, or the two of us." He motioned between him and Scott, then him and Allison. "Or us."

            Allison shifted up onto one elbow to regard him. "Really?"

            Shrugging one shoulder, Isaac looked between them. "Don't you think?" he asked.

            "It makes sense," Scott assured him, reaching out with one hand to tug Isaac down to lay with him. "Easier, too."

            "So you're... okay with it?" Allison asked, looking at Scott now.

            "Okay with it?" Scott echoed, a smile lighting his face as Isaac stretched out beside him. "If my girlfriend wants to spend time with my boyfriend, I think I'm pretty okay with it. Are you okay with it?"

            For a moment she looked between them, until Isaac laid one hand out on Scott's chest, palm up. Delicately, she slipped her hand into his and smiled. "Yeah. When you put it like that, I guess jealousy would be a little weird."

            Isaac gave her hand a little squeeze. "It's okay to not be okay with it," he said. "We can work through anything, but only if we can talk about it. Only if we're willing to talk about whatever it is."

            Squeezing back, she nodded. "Yeah. But, I am okay with it. We won't have to stop being you-and-me, or me-and-Scott, or you-and-Scott. We can just be you-me-and-Scott, too."

            "That sounds nice," Scott murmured. "That sounds really nice, actually."

            Isaac mumbled assent, and then wriggled the towel out from over his shoulders, tossing it somewhere away from them. He grinned. "Good. Now, it's only nine and checkout isn't until noon."

            "No breakfast?" Allison teased.

            Tipping his head, Isaac pretended to ponder the thought for a moment, barely containing his grin. "Hmm... Breakfast doesn't end until ten. We have time before and after."

            A rough, rich laugh burst from Scott and both Allison and Isaac looked at him.   "Nothing," he assured them. "You're optimistic."

            Isaac grinned again. "I'm _talented_ ," he said, leaning in for a kiss.

 

* * *

 

            Allison lay curled with her ear against Isaac's chest, listening to him talk quietly to Scott at her feet. They still had half an hour before they had to check out of the hotel, and they'd been discussing what route to take home since exiting the showers a few minutes prior. "I like the idea of seeing the corn palace," she interjected, words a little slurry with sleep.

            "We could take 80 out, then," Isaac said, voice rumbling beneath her. Scott's finger traced the route on the map that was spread over their shins.

            "The palace is just up 29, here," Scott said, tapping the map.

            "Wait, 29? That goes up to 90, right?" Allison said, sitting up a little to see the map. "Yeah, it does, look," she said a moment later, following Scott's finger. She tapped a city on the map, proud that she remembered. "Sioux City. My dad's got a friend up that way, in Sioux Falls. We visited a couple times when we were moving around."

            "Do you want to drop by?" Scott asked, looking up at her.

            She thought about it for a beat, then shrugged. "Sure, yeah. I'll call my dad when we get on the road, see if he can call first. The guy goes on the road a lot, so he might not even be there. But we might be able to park at his junkyard overnight at least."

            "Sounds good to me," Isaac said, closing his eyes. "We should get cleaned up and head out."

            Allison snuggled a little closer, sighing. "Five more minutes?" She looked down their bodies to Scott, who smiled.

            "Five more minutes," he agreed, setting aside their atlas and scooting up the bed to flop over Isaac's other side, fingers twining with Allison's.

 

* * *

 

            "P-diddle," Isaac called from the passenger seat, a second ahead of Allison.

"I'm not taking anything else off," Scott said.

            "I don't have anything else _to_ take off," Allison said, shrugging. "Maybe we need to pick a new game."

            Isaac gave a little laugh. "I think we're almost there, anyway," he said, grabbing the atlas. "The last sign said we were only a few miles outside Des Moines. It's not too much farther to the corn palace after that."

            "Yeah," Scott confirmed.

            "I hope Bobby doesn't mind us getting in late," Allison said, eyes ticking over to the time. "It'll be past ten."

            "I think it'll be okay." Isaac poked at her and grinned. "As long as you two get dressed before then."

            Allison smacked his arm and he dissolved into laughter.

 

* * *

 

 

            “It’s not actually _made_ of corn,” Scott said, exasperated from listening to Allison and Isaac discuss why the entire structure didn’t turn into popcorn when it got really hot.

            “It’s a corn palace,” Isaac told him. “A palace. Of corn.”

            “Okay, but it’s not actually corn,” Scott repeated. “They just- they nail corn onto it. They put murals on the walls, made of corn.”

            “So it’s just decoration?” Allison clarified, staring hard at Isaac. Then her brow furrowed and she slumped a bit. “That’s a little disappointing actually.”

            “That’s what I’m saying,” Isaac sighed. “It would be way more interesting if the building was made out of corn.”

            “How would they keep it from popping in the summer?” Allison asked.

            “Popping?” Scott echoed.

            “Yeah,” Allison said. “You know, turning into a _popcorn_ palace.” She grinned as the boys groaned.

 

* * *

 

            They hadn’t stayed long at the corn palace, just checking out the murals of the year before hitting the road again. Isaac reminded Scott that they were supposed to be home tomorrow and still had over 24 hours of driving to do, so Scott had pulled out his phone and requested an extra day from Dr. Deaton, explaining that they’d gotten held up but they were driving straight home.

            “Take your time,” Alan told them. “The last thing we need is you three getting into an accident because you were trying to make a deadline.”

            “Thanks, Doc,” Scott said in a rush, relieved.

            “Not a problem,” he said, and Scott could hear the smile in his tone. “You can make it up by cleaning the cat kennels when you get back.”

            “Great,” Scott groaned, but he was smiling too.

            Allison had called her father next, making sure that it was okay for them to carry on going north to the scrap yard. “He says come on up, he’s actually in for the week,” Chris told her. “He has some things for you to bring home to me, if you wouldn’t mind picking them up.”

            “Things?” Allison echoed suspiciously. “What things?”

            “Hunter things,” her father said cryptically, teasing. “It’s books, Allison. He was going to mail them but if you’re up that way you can bring them home.”

            “Can I read them?” she asked, straightening. Isaac and Scott looked at her, both listening in on the conversation.

            “You know I’m not keeping secrets anymore, kiddo,” her father said quietly. “So read them if you want. It’s just lore.”

            “Okay,” she said tiredly. “Also, we’re a day behind, just so you don’t freak out. We should be home the day after tomorrow.”

            “Something happen?” he asked, concerned.

            “No, everything’s fine,” she assured him. “We just decided to stay an extra day in Chicago since the weather was so nice.” She patted Isaac’s arm and motioned to the back room, then disappeared to talk to her father.

            Scott settled back in the passenger seat, staring out the front window. He could feel his heartbeat thrumming in his fingertips and knew Isaac could hear it too. He let out the breath he was holding. “I don’t know how I feel about staying overnight at a hunter’s place,” he admitted.

            “Chris talked to him,” Isaac pointed out. “I’m sure he explained the situation.”

            “That’s what I’m worried about,” Scott said softly, glancing back to make sure Allison was not within human hearing range. The back door was shut and her voice was low and steady to her father, talking about Chicago.

            “You think Chris, what, suggested this guy off us?” Isaac asked, lowering his voice as well. He glanced over nervously.

            “No,” Scott said quickly. After everything that had gone down in Beacon Hills, he knew that they could trust Allison’s father. He had very nearly given his life several times helping protect them and helping them protect others. “Of course not. But think about how hard-won his trust was. This guy doesn’t know us. So what if one guy trusts us; Chris told us that a lot of hunters will blanket kill anything supernatural.”

            “Yeah, but this guy’s friends with Chris, right?” Isaac asked. “He wouldn’t send us there if he didn’t trust him.”

            Scott shrugged, giving a little shake of his head. “I hope so.”

 

* * *

 

            The junkyard was everything Allison had told them it would be, full of rusted out cars and more than one old, cannibalized Impala. She told them that some guys Bobby knew drove one and stopped here to repair it. Isaac wrinkled his nose and said it smelled like a graveyard underneath the oppressive scent of rust and oil and grease. She raised her eyebrows and waited for him to _get_ it. They stuck a little closer to her after that.

            Bobby greeted them at the door, saying he’d watched them drive up. He wasn’t exactly what Scott and Isaac had been expecting; a gruff, older guy with red-brown hair going grey, his baseball hat hiding most of it. He did look every bit the sort to be running an old scrapyard, just not so much the sort to be out hunting supernatural monsters.

            He put them through the ropes first, though, leaving them with no doubts as to his occupation. They let him splash holy water and borax on their arms and Allison accepted the shallow cut with a silver knife.

            “You two don’t need it,” he’d told them, pointing the business end of the knife toward them. “I know you’re shifters.”

            “Werewolves,” Scott clarified with a nod. “The good kind though.”

            “Yeah, that’s what Chris said,” Bobby told them, sounding doubtful. “I never seen a good shifter, but he says he’d drive out here himself and bury me in my own yard if I hurt you. Son of a bitch is just crazy enough to do it, him or his sister.”

            “Kate’s dead,” Allison said softly. She twitched a regretful smile when he looked at her. “Killed by one of the bad werewolves. We know the difference.”

            “It’s your heart if you’re wrong,” Bobby said with a shrug, letting them into the house. Isaac and Scott both lifted their noses, taking in the scent of the hunters who had come and gone, of the old books lining every available space, of the mold in the ceiling.

            “Dad says you’d like if we made breakfast,” Allison offered, glancing at the kitchen. “So, we brought enough to share, if that’s okay.”

            Bobby looked over the trio skeptically for a moment, then shrugged. “Whatever you want. You kids getting back on the road early?”

            “Early enough,” Allison said. “We don’t want to be a bother. What time do you normally wake up?”

            He shrugged. “Don’t sleep much these days. How about you come get your daddy’s books and we’ll sort the morning when it gets here.”

            She glanced back toward Isaac and Scott, and shrugged. Together they followed Bobby into the central room of the house, what looked to be some kind of study. Scott glanced up at the symbols on the ceiling, shooting Isaac a dubious look. A moment later Bobby dumped a small pile of books into Allison’s arms.

            “He doesn’t have to send these back,” Bobby told her, watching as she passed the stack off to the boys. “They’re just copies.” He eyed the three of them, and then shooed them off. “Go on, it’s late.”

            They thanked him as they wound their way back to the entrance. Allison drifted to the back, making sure that Scott and Isaac walked out of the house first so that they couldn’t be left behind. Scott smiled at the endearing show of protectiveness.

            Crossing the junkyard, they filed into the RV. Allison deposited the books on the kitchen table, scrubbing her face with one hand tiredly.

            “He seems nice,” Scott offered as he followed Isaac into the back room. She smiled, shucking her shoes by the door before going back as well.

            “He is,” she said, crawling onto the bed beside them. “Sort of. He likes kids.”

            Scott shuffled around until she could rest her head on his shoulder. Isaac waited until they were settled before throwing an arm over Scott’s waist. “We’ll make him a nice breakfast in the morning,” Isaac said sleepily. “Like I used to make for my dad.”

            Allison smiled, eyes closing as she listened to the beat of Scott’s heart until they all fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

**Day 14**

 

            The next morning, Scott lounged in one of the wooden chairs as Isaac scooted around the kitchen near the stove, turning the hash browns and checking the bacon in the oven. A small stack of plates sat on the table in front of her, silverware in a pile beside it. The entire first floor smelled _amazing_. They had expected Bobby to be in their business - being that they were strangers of the supernatural variety - but he had left them to their own devices in the kitchen. As soon as he was awake, he’d just closed himself into the back room with a pile of books, the phone practically attached to his ear.

            “He’s busy,” Scott said. He was watching Allison idly twist and turn the Rubik’s cube. He pointed to the row of land lines on the kitchen wall. “What do you suppose that’s all about.”

            Allison glanced up, looking at the phones. They were labeled with tape that read things like ‘FBI’ and ‘Homeland Security.’ She shrugged. “I have no idea. He’s on a cell phone right now, so he’s not using any of them.” She twisted the cube a few times and then considered the puzzle. “Can you hear what he’s saying?”

            “I haven’t been listening,” Scott said, which was even mostly true. He had listened in for the first few minutes, enough to determine that Bobby was dealing with another hunter on a case that had nothing to do with them, before tuning out the conversation. “Do you think he’ll eat?”

            “I think I’ll take him a plate when I’m done,” Isaac said, opening the styrofoam carton and picking two brown eggs. The small pan was piping hot, hissing when he cracked the eggs into it. He let the bottom white out before turning down the heat. “Won’t be long, and then we can get on the road.”

            “How far do you think we’ll get?” Allison asked, watching as he rolled open the bag of bread and stuck a couple of pieces in the ancient-looking toaster.

            “It’d be nice to hit Salt Lake City,” Scott said. He’d taken a look at the map before the others woke. “Or get close to it.”

            “That’s pretty south of here, isn’t it?” Isaac said. He started setting out the plates. Allison joined in, separating the silverware into sets. “Back by 80?”

            “Yeah,” Scott said. “It’ll put us on route to hit San Francisco.”

            “San Fran?” Allison echoed, sounding surprised. “That’s past home!”

            “Not by a lot,” he reasoned. “And it’d be nice to see the ocean, right? You wanted to when we started all this, and we didn’t go.”

            Slowly, Allison nodded. “I did, yeah. I’m just surprised you remembered.”

            Isaac began dishing out the hash browns. “I’m not. He’s good with little things like that.” Quickly, Isaac doled out four portions of hash browns, set the pan back on the stove, flipped the eggs and shut off the heat. Allison and Scott both watched him pull the bacon from the oven with a mitt, place two pieces on one of the plates, return the pan, and grab the toast just as it popped. Before it cooled too much, he buttered the toast and set it beside the bacon, grabbed the egg pan, and slid the finished product onto the plate with the rest. “Tada,” he said.

            Allison and Scott both applauded quietly, smiles on their faces. “It’s beautiful,” she told him. “First plate to our host?”

            “Yeah,” Isaac said, rinsing the pan, spraying it down, and cracking two new eggs into it to start the process over.

            Scott watched as she got to her feet, lifting the plate and disappearing to the other room. He kept his attention on her even as he said to Isaac: “Well, he didn’t kill us in our sleep.”

            “Your bar’s not very high,” Isaac commented wryly, popping in more toast. “He seems nice. Gruff, but nice.”

            “He’s in the other room discussing how to kill things like us,” Scott said.

            “Sometimes that’s the solution,” Isaac countered, soft and simple.

            “We always find another way,” Scott huffed, leaning back in his chair.

Isaac rolled his eyes, but didn’t press the issue any further. “I wonder if there are others like Allison and her dad,” he said instead. “Hunters that don’t… well, hunt.”

            “Maybe,” Scott guessed, turning his attention back. His brow furrowed in thought and he tipped his head, considering the notion. “Maybe there could be.”

            Glancing back, Isaac gave him a questioning look.

            Scott shrugged, then motioned to to all around them. “This guy, he’s a network.” He pointed at the line of labeled phones. “I’d bet money those take calls from other hunters. Chris called in people when he was dealing with Peter being crazy, and when Jackson got out of hand as the kanima. I don’t think hunting is isolated. Maybe they don’t live in the same space like we do, but they’re a pack, too, in a way.”

            “You think they’ll start changing?” Isaac asked doubtfully. “Just because of us?”

            “I dunno,” Scott said with another shrug. “Maybe it’s not _just us_. It’s you and me and Allison, but it’s Chris and Derek too. Ethan and Aiden and Cora, too. Whoever this guy is on the phone with, maybe he hears about us. Maybe that saves a life down the road.”

            Isaac chuckled, flipping the eggs over. “Sounds like you’ve got big plans.”

            “Oh shut up,” Scott said, exasperated. But he smiled, holding out his plate for the eggs. “It’d be good.”

            “It would be _great_ ,” Isaac corrected, sliding the over-easy eggs onto his plate.

            “What would be great?” Allison asked as she appeared in the doorway.

            “Scott’s going to save the world,” Isaac informed her, setting the pan down in time to grab the toast.

            “The whole world now?” she teased, and Scott rolled his eyes. She chuckled, and then motioned back the way she’d come. “Bobby says thanks for the food. He’s got to head out soon. I told him we’d clean up and be out of his hair before then.”

            “Are we going to just drive all day?” Isaac asked, passing the buttered toast to Scott.

            “If we want to pass Salt Lake City, yeah,” Scott said, passing the entire plate to Allison. She gave him a look, but accepted it.

            “I call first shift, then,” she said. When there was no argument, she dug into the breakfast with a smile.

 

* * *

 

            “I spy something-”

            “Is it the sky?”

            Scott grinned. “Is there anything else here?”

            Allison sighed. “We haven’t even seen road signs for anything interesting.”

            “Maybe I spied a road sign,” Scott said, lifting his chin a little.

            “Was it the sky?”

            “Yeah.”

            “We need a new game,” Allison told him tiredly.

 

* * *

 

            “Eight cows,” Scott said, pointing out his window.

            “How many is that?” Isaac asked, glancing over from the passenger seat.

            Scott tipped his head, trying to remember. “Forty three?”

            “I think we should add horses to my count,” Isaac sighed. “There are no sheep here. This is a sheepless land.”

            “There were some sheep,” Scott argued.

            “How many sheep? Seven. Seven sheep in the last three hours.” He gave the Rubik’s cube a twist, then set it down again. “I thought Allison solved this.”

            “She was going to,” Scott said. “I think she was looking up solutions earlier.

            “And?”

            Scott shrugged. “You’ll have to ask her.”

            Isaac gave him a hard look for a moment, and then pointed out Scott’s window and said seriously: “Three horses.”

 

* * *

 

            “Don’t fall asleep,” Allison warned from the passenger seat, looking over at Isaac. His eyes were drooping, his head tipping downward a little every few minutes. “Do you need to switch?”

            “No,” he said tiredly. “It’s just… you know.”

            “Yeah,” she agreed. “Been a long day. We’re coming up on Salt Lake City though.       That’s where we’ve been heading, right?”

            “Yep. You should probably grab Scott.”

            Allison snuggled deeper into the seat. “In a bit, if you’re okay driving. He wanted to get past the city, so we’ve got an hour or so before he needs to be up.”

            “Okay,” Isaac agreed. “You want to play a game until then?”

            She laughed. “As long as it’s not ‘I spy.’”

 

* * *

 

            "We should camp," Isaac said, out of nowhere. Scott glanced over and raised his eyebrows in question. "Really camp. You know, not at a campground. Just sleep outside for a night."

            "Why?" Scott asked, eyes on the road again.

            Isaac shrugged. "My brother and I used to just use the RV when we took off," he said. "Camden used to say that we'd go camping for real when he came back, but... well."

            Scott swallowed, nodding a little. "We can do that. Did you have someplace in mind?"

            "Anywhere." Isaac looked back to where Allison lay stretched out on the couch with the handbook open on her chest. "What do you think, Allison?"

            "About camping?" she asked without looking up. "We don't have a tent. Or sleeping bags. Or any camping gear that isn't marshmallow roasting sticks."

            The boys exchanged a glance and then Isaac leaned into the aisle to look to the back of the RV. "We could take the mattress out," he suggested.

            "We'd get it dirty," Allison said, setting the book down and surrendering her attention to him fully.

            "We could put it on the roof," Scott suggested. "None of us move much when we sleep."

            Allison raised her eyebrows and Isaac shrugged back. "Why not?" he said.

            "Are we planning on just pulling over somewhere?" she asked.

            "Yes," Isaac said at the same time as Scott said: "Of course not." The boys looked at one another for a split second before Scott conceded. "I mean, we could."

            "We're almost to the Rockies," Allison pointed out. "So if we're going to do it, we should do it tonight. You'll have to get off the highway and find a nice side road. Someplace we can park where people either won't see us or won't care."

            "I think we're a little noticeable," Isaac said, motioning around them to the bulky RV.

            "We could follow a power line in a corn field," Allison suggested. "We wouldn't stick up much higher than some of the corn stalks, and if we turned off all of our lights I bet no one would notice."

            They all traded glances, and Isaac shrugged again. “Sure.”

 

* * *

 

            It was pitch dark by the time they pulled off the road, following a power line into a field of tall, ripe corn. In the distance they could hear the faint rush of a cars passing on the highway, but none on these roads. The scent of civilization was barely present, overwhelmed by the smell of dirt and plants and freedom. Without the lights of the city, the night sky was painted bright with stars, a thin, misty stripe down the middle.

            “That’s the Milky Way. The pale stripe is one of the arms of the galaxy,” Scott told them, when they had settled on their backs on the mattress. The wolves had dragged it to the roof, Allison bringing up the blankets after them, and the three of them had piled on.

            “I know some of the constellations,” Isaac offered, pointing up. “There’s the big dipper, and the little dipper. They’re part of Ursa Major and Ursa Minor.”

            “Bears,” Allison said. “I know those constellations.”

            “Okay, smart-ass,” Isaac said, smiling. He pointed to another grouping of stars.             “You know that one?” When she shook her head, he dropped his hand back to his chest. “That’s Scorpius. He’s on the opposite side of the sky from Orion.”

            “That sounds important,” Allison mused, tipping her head to look at the stars, trying to discern a scorpion from them.

            “Orion was a great hunter,” Isaac said. “He told everyone he could best any creature, but he was killed by a little scorpion.”

            “So now they’re kept apart,” Allison concluded.

            “Mhmm,” Isaac confirmed. He raised his hand, pointing to another constellation.            “There’s another hunter, Sagittarius. It’s supposed to be Chiron, a centaur. He was an archer, like you. A healer and a teacher.”

            “I know that story!” Scott exclaimed. “We learned about that when we were studying Greek mythology in English. He’s the one who took Prometheus’ spot in Tartarus so Prometheus would go free.”

            “Who is Prometheus?” Allison asked.

            “The titan who gave fire to mankind,” Scott explained. “The gods were pretty pissed about it, so they chained him to a rock in Tartarus and a vulture or an eagle or something would come by and eat his liver every day, and the next day he would be healed.”

            “Why would Chiron take his place?”

            “Don’t remember,” Scott said, tipping his head to look at Isaac, who shrugged.

            “I don’t remember either,” he said by way of apology. “Something bad happened.”

            “Something bad always happens,” Allison said. She didn’t sound upset about it, so they let it drop.

            For a while they just lay there, arms and legs overlapping, breath low and quiet. The wolves listened to hearts beating, the quiet rhythms soothing and familiar. None of them wanted to voice that tomorrow they would have to return to real life, and that the harder tests of their new-found relationship would begin. In the distance stretched the Rockies, the last barrier between them and home.

 

* * *

 

            The night was hazy around the edges, sleepy heavy on Scott's eyelids when Isaac mumbled something nearly incoherent into his shoulder. He smiled, dragging himself back to consciousness enough to say: “What?”

            “Star,” Isaac yawned, snuggling closer against the chill of night. “You’re like a star.”

            Scott chuckled, soft and breathy. “You’re sleep talking,” he said, kissing the top of Isaac’s head.

            “No…” Isaac’s nose wrinkled slightly. “I’m not.”

            “Then you’re not making any sense,” Scott told him gently.

            “You,” Isaac insisted. “You’re like a star. When it’s dark, you still shine. Even when you're gone, your light stays.  Did you know some of those stars up there probably don’t exist anymore? Their light travels so far to reach us that we see them long after they're gone.”

            Scott looked down at Isaac like maybe, despite his protest, he really was talking in his sleep.  Before he could think of anything to say to that, Isaac nodded, mission seemingly accomplished.

            "If you decide to change the world, I think you will. Then everyone will remember you long after you're gone too."

            Scott listened to Isaac's heartbeat even out as he fell back asleep. He stated awake for a long while after that, gaze tracing patterns in the stars as he thought about changing the world. He thought, just maybe, they'd made a pretty good start.

 

* * *

 

**Day 15**

 

            “I looked up the solution,” Allison told him, slouched in the passenger seat the next morning. He glanced over, and she held up the cube. She’d solved a white cross into the top of it, and Scott could see stripes of colors at the points. He smiled. “You were right, by the way.”

            “About?”

            “Everywhere I checked said you had to get it to a certain point before you could solve it,” she said. “I didn’t keep the solution, though. So I don’t know what to do with it now.”

            “Stiles solved it once,” Scott admitted.

            “On his own?” she asked, hands dropping to her lap, fingers wrapped around the small cube.

            “Uh, sort of,” Scott told her, grinning. “He brought it over after a couple weeks of us trying to figure it out. It was all solved and he had that shit-eating grin on his face.”

            “How’d he do it?” She looked down at the cube in her hands. “Guide?”

            “Nope,” Scott said. “He took it apart, and put it back together again. He said sometimes that’s what you have to do to fix things.”

            “Do you think that’s true?” she wondered.

            “I think it worked,” he said, shrugging with one shoulder. “But I’m starting to think he missed the point.” When she looked back over at him, confused, he smiled. “I don’t think the point of a Rubik’s cube is to solve it. Once it’s solved, you either stop playing with it, or you just mess it up again.”

            “Hm.” She considered the idea, head falling to rest against the window as she regarded the cube in her hands. “I think you’re right.”

            Very deliberately, she twisted the cube at random until the pattern disappeared.

 

* * *

 

 

            “Almost there,” Isaac said softly, just enough to rouse Scott from his doze in the passenger seat. “You should get Allison up. I can see the ocean.”

            Scott sat up, scrubbing at one eye with the heel of his hand, staring blearily ahead of them. It was distant, the faint tang of saltwater drifting on the breeze through the cracked window. “San Francisco?”

            “North of it, but yeah,” Isaac said. “We’ll be there in a few.”

            Nodding, Scott clambered to his feet, crossing to the back room. He knocked gently, and then opened the door. Allison was sleeping on the bed, curled up around a book. Smiling, he crawled onto the bed, the gentle dip of his weight rousing her before he could lay down in front of her.

            “Hey,” she said, giving a smile.

            “Hey, yourself,” he replied, stretching out. “We’re almost there.”

            “Home?” she asked, brow wrinkling.

            A soft chuckle escaped him. “The ocean,” he said. “Remember?”

            “Yeah.” She yawned, stretching out and then flopping over closer to him. “I remember.”

            He leaned forward, pressing his forehead lightly to hers. “I think we’re close to home, too. We’ll call your dad when we leave.”

            “Okay,” she said, eyes closing. Scott smiled, and let her stay wrapped up in him until he felt the RV begin to slow.

 

* * *

 

            The ocean stretched out for miles in every direction, small, choppy waves painted the colors of the sunset gracing the horizon. From far off, the faint sound of humanity enjoying the last rays of light drifted to them, overlapping pleasantly with the crest and fall of the waves. There were still a few hours left until they had to be home and they were making the most of it, snuggled up together under one of the blankets from the bed.

            At some point it had come up that perhaps they shouldn’t be on top of the RV, but no one had stopped them so protests had fallen to the wayside in favor of the boys curling up on either side of Allison. Her fingers stroked lightly through Scott’s hair in her lap, her temple leaning against the top of Isaac’s head where he slouched against her other side.

            Isaac shifted and pressed his nose into her shoulder, fingers seeking out Scott’s. “We should get going soon,” he said softly.

            None of them moved. Scott’s fingers tightened around Isaac’s after a moment. “I wish we didn’t have to go back,” he murmured. “I wish we could just… take off and do this and just be us without having to fit.”

            Allison chuckled softly, dragging her fingers lightly over his scalp. “It’s going to be weird, going home. Nothing will ever be the same again, will it…?”

            “That’s kind of good, right?” Isaac said. “I mean, that it’s different. It’s better now.”

            “Yeah,” Allison agreed. “It’s better now.”

            Together they watched the last of the sun rays sink below the horizon, each lost in their own thoughts. It was Scott that broke the silence. “Are we going to tell our parents?”

            Both wolves listened to Allison’s heartbeat rise. “We may have to,” she said. “My dad’s going to ask, at least. Your mom will.”

            "Stiles and Derek will," Isaac said, looking to Scott.

            "They already know," Scott told him with a little eye roll. He smiled, just a twitch of his lips.

            "And Lydia," Allison reminded them. "She had her hands in this too."

            "She has her hands in everything," Isaac said. "Imagine if she'd stayed with Stiles after sophomore year."

            "I try not to," Scott said, wincing. He nudged Allison gently. "We'll be okay."

            "I know," she said softly, leaning into him. "We should get going. We still have over and hour before home."

            "Five more minutes?" Isaac asked, repeating Allison's favorite phrase lately.

            She smiled. "Okay. Five more minutes."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *There actually is a book called [The Threesome Handbook, written by Vicki Vantoch](http://www.amazon.com/The-Threesome-Handbook-Practical-SLEEPING/dp/1568583338) and it's a very good read if you have any interest in the subject.


	3. Chapter 3

  **Part Three**

* * *

_Though the truth may vary_

_This ship will carry our_

_bodies safe to shore_

* * *

 

 

            Isaac pulled up alongside Scott’s house instead of in the driveway, wheels inches from the curb. When they finally came to a stop, Isaac reached forward, clicking off the ignition. The silence was the loudest sound they’d heard in the past two weeks. Isaac looked over to Scott in the passenger seat, then to Allison, who leaned against the frame.

            “Are we ready for this?” Allison asked, watching as Scott’s mom appeared at the front door. She waved to them, and they all waved back.

            “I think so,” Scott said. “We’re more ready for than than half the things we’ve faced until now.”

            “Let’s find out,” Isaac said, unbuckling his seat belt and clambering to his feet. Allison backed up to make room, and then turned to head for her bag. They had packed up earlier in the day, taking turns while others were driving, so that they wouldn’t have to rush when they got in.

            When they practically tumbled out of the RV, Scott was immediately swept into a hug by his mother. “Welcome home!” she exclaimed.

            He buried his nose in her shoulder and squeezed back gently. “Thanks.”

            The moment he was free, Melissa was pulling Isaac into a hug instead. “You too! How was it?” she asked, as if they hadn’t called her almost every night to give her updates on where they were and what they had done.

            “It was great,” Allison said as Melissa released Isaac and hugged her next. “We had a lot of fun.”

            “Do you need help bringing in your stuff?” Melissa asked, drawing away again with a smile. “Did you call your dad?”

            “Yeah,” she said, motioning vaguely. “We called when we stopped on the coast, to say we’d be home in a bit.”

            “You’re welcome to stay here,” Melissa said sincerely. “It’s already late. Scott can drop you off on his way to work tomorrow.”

            All of them froze, staring at her. Scott cleared his throat first. “Uh, Mom-”

            She held up a hand to stop him. “I don’t want to know,” she said, but she was smiling. “Let’s make it a ‘what happened on the road trip, stays in the road trip’ rule.”

            “But you don’t let-” Scott tried again.

            “The three of you have been roaming around together for two weeks in an RV,” she interrupted. “I think one more night won’t make a difference.” She raised both eyebrows, looking between the three of them. “Or maybe it will. Do you want to take her home now?”

            “No,” Scott said at the same time as Isaac, and Melissa smiled like the cat that got the cream.

            “I thought not,” she said smugly. “Let’s get you unloaded, then, and get to sleep.”

            The three of them exchanged glances, a little surprised at how easy that had been. “Don’t you care?” Scott asked, not moving. “About… the three of us?”

            She studied them for a moment. “Honey, of course I care,” she said softly. “But             You’re going off to college soon. You’ve been through enough until now that I know you can make your own decisions. All of you,” she said, nodding to both Isaac and Allison. “So of course I care, I just don’t… _disapprove_.”

            All of them relaxed then, some of the tension of their return bleeding out with the first sign of acceptance. “Thanks,” Scott mumbled, throat thick.

            Smiling, she picked up two of their bags and then turned away from them. “But that doesn’t mean anyone else is moving in, just so you know,” she told them as she headed for the house. She paused. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t move in someplace else.”

            As she disappeared into the house without them, they all turned to look at one another. Isaac cleared his throat, eyebrows high. “I love your mom,” he said.

 

* * *

 

            Allison sat with her back against Scott's headboard, watching him from across the room. Curled halfway on her lap was Isaac, eyes closed and a soft hum of contentedness rumbling out every time she carded her fingers slowly through his hair, tips rubbing into his scalp with just enough pressure. Outside the sun was setting and Allison knew she would have to be on her way soon.

            She wasn't looking forward to tomorrow.

            Tomorrow was all returning to the normal world. Tomorrow was jobs and friends and family that wasn't Melissa, who had only asked them: "Are you happy?" as they headed upstairs, because that was all she wanted - all she had ever wanted, Allison suspected - for any of them. Tomorrow was when they had to leave behind whatever tenuous situation had allowed them to create this _thing_ , this wonderful, amazing thing they shared, and see if they could survive outside of it.

            They could, she thought, stroking her fingers through Isaac's hair. They'd made it this far. They'd seen their fair share of awful things in the past couple years, enough to know that the little things, the small arguments, could never really amount to much in the face of the feeling coiled warm within her. The tension that had been building since even before the alpha pack had shown up had finally disappeared and in its place nestled the knowledge that she had everything she wanted.

            "I like that smile," Scott said, quietly enough that it didn't disturb Isaac's doze. "I think it's my favorite."

            Blushing, she tipped her head down and let out a short, breathy laugh. "I'm happy," she said. "I'm just... happy." She glanced up to find Scott smiling softly back.

            "Me too," Scott admitted. She could see the faint flush of his skin as well, and it looked good on him.

            "Me three," Isaac mumbled sleepily, leaning into Allison's touch.

            "I keep thinking... where do we go from here?" Allison asked, tipping her head back to rest on the headboard, eyes tracing over the ceiling.

            "I think we can go anywhere we want," Scott said, giving a little shrug as he clambered to his feet and crossed the room. He slipped into the bed on her other side and curled his fingers into Isaac’s when the other boy reached for him. "Isn't that what we’ve done so far? It’s an open road now. It’s up to us, right?"

            Closing her eyes, Allison smiled. “Yeah.”

 

* * *

 

            Scott heard the heartbeat long before Stiles tapped on his door. He sat up when Stiles opened it, shooting him a smile. Stiles was beaming, but Scott could smell the worry on him. “I heard you were back in town, jerk,” he said, shutting the door behind himself.

            “Yeah.” Scott laughed, scooting to make room for him on the bed.

            “Didn’t think to call?” Stiles asked, clambering up beside him.

            “I’ve been a little busy,” Scott said, tired. “I just got home from work like an hour ago.”

            Stiles nodded, accepting the excuse. “So how’d it go?” He flopped backward on the bed before looking over at Scott. “You guys sort it out? Get yourselves figured?”

            “You could say that,” Scott answered, nodding, waiting until Stiles flopped a hand out at him before he relented with more detail. “Yeah, man, we worked it out. Like you were going to let us do anything else. Thanks for the handbook, asshole.”

            A short bark of a laugh escaped Stiles, dissolving into a wheezing noise of amusement. “Oh my god, I found that online the day after we talked, how could I not send it with you? I had to make up a whole care package just to hide it so you’d take it along.”

            “Which, by the way, thank you,” Scott told him, grinning. Stiles made a face and they both laughed quietly. “Seriously though.”

            Leaning over the edge of the bed, Scott dug around in his duffel bag before pulling something out and tossing it to Stiles. Catching it with a neat, practiced motion, Stiles turned the solved Rubik’s cube over in his hand. His brows rose, and when he looked to Scott, his smile gave away that he knew Scott had gotten his message.

            “You told me sometimes the rules are stupid,” Scott said softly. “That sometimes you gotta break something before it can be fixed.”

            “Yeah?” Stiles said, with a little, snarky grin. “So you’re finally following my advice?”

            Scott laughed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right every once in a great while.

            Rolling his eyes, Stiles tossed the cube back at him. “Whatever, smart-ass. I’m glad you three figured it out. Does this mean I won’t have to hear you whining about them anymore?”

            “Not a chance,” Scott told him, grinning as he set the toy on one of the shelves near his bed. There was no way he was going to leave Stiles in the dark about two of the most wonderful parts of his life. He knew Stiles wouldn’t have it any other way, even if there was going to be far more to tell now.

            After all, it was only the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


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